Never To Be Alone In The Dark
by Anla'shok Ivanova
Summary: Circa Endgame, Entil'Zha Sinclair enables the possibly dying Susan Ivanova to go back in time to the moments before Marcus wakes her on the White Star, there to change one small thing that could change everything.
1. Default Chapter

Disclaimer: Babylon 5 and its characters don't belong to me. The characters mentioned all belong to J. Michael Straczynski, and my amateur efforts probably can't do justice to his work. 

"Never to Be Alone in the Dark" (1/?)  
by Christine Anderson  
aka Anla'shok Ivanova 

Darkness surrounded her, and silence, and for a time she knew nothing else, until the darkness gave way to light, and she seemed to hover there at the edge of a doorway, in the grey space between life and death. Somewhere very far away she thought she heard a familiar voice scream her name. With that recognition an image formed in her mind's eye; A face she'd always tried to keep from her thoughts...and a name, a name she wished she could keep from thinking. 

Marcus. 

"Am I...dead?" Susan Ivanova asked, not knowing if anyone would answer her, not knowing if anyone or anything _could_. 

"You stand between," said a voice from behind her, and she turned. The voice was familiar, but unexpected. Jeffrey Sinclair, garbed as a Ranger, with no special adornments upon his clothing, nothing save some air of quiet authority about him to mark him Entil'Zha and Ranger One. "You aren't dead _yet_, Susan, but you may be soon." 

"Great," Ivanova replied. "Wonderful. Fabulous, even. Can I ask just one question? How the hell did this happen? I don't think I hit my head that hard..." 

"It's not so much a matter of what you hit," Sinclair said, "as it is a matter of what hit _you_. Which is most of the forward bridge of a White Star, in case you're curious." 

"Thanks," Ivanova replied. "So...are _you_ dead?" 

He laughed. "Susan, there is a part of me that was dead before you were ever born, dead before _I_ was ever born." 

"Rangers," Ivanova said, rolling her eyes skyward. "You're all crazy." 

"Yes," he agreed. "We are. Some of us in a good way, though," Sinclair said. "If you regain consciousness, you might want to thank Marcus for digging you out. It probably only bought you a few hours more, but he means well, Susan. And he cares- a great deal." 

That name again. And with it, another flash of the face, dark hair, pleasant features, eyes that were kind and yet held so very much pain- all of that, and thoughts, emotions, reminders she didn't want, things she didn't dare touch or feel, even once, even a little...Flashes of scrambled eggs, roses, and a chart based upon the Ottoman Empire. Shared laughter, just a second or two before horrifying news brought their world shattering down around them. 

Sinclair said nothing, as if he saw what was going on inside her head and was letting her think it all out. Ivanova desperately wanted him to interrupt these thought processes, and knew somehow that he wasn't going to. 

"Isn't this where you're supposed to say 'Come towards the light'?" Ivanova asked then, determined to break the silence herself, if he wouldn't. 

Sinclair laughed again. "You will when it's your time. No one has to tell you to do it. It simply- is." 

"Becoming Minbari has done wonders for your oration skills," she said. "Now I knew why the sight of you and Sheridan in the same room scared the hell out of me." 

"Susan..." 

"Yes?" 

"We will meet again at the end of time, in the place where no shadows fall. But sometimes there are more pressing matters, things that can't wait. The Minbari taught me patience, but I also learned from them when it would not serve at all. This is one of those times." 

He paused. The pause was long, and for a time Ivanova was tempted to break it as she had the last one, but decided instead to force him to speak as he'd done with her. After a time he did so. 

"You cannot change today, and you cannot change tomorrow," said Sinclair, "but if you wish, you can change one small thing of yesterday." 

"I don't understand," Ivanova said. 

"I know. And there's only so much I can tell you- the rest, you're going to have to figure out on your own. You've got those hours Marcus gave you- you can use them or you can throw them away." 

"Would you please," Ivanova asked, "stop saying his name? I don't want to hear it." 

"I know that, too," Sinclair replied, "and that's part of the problem. Marcus cares for you, Susan, and if you weren't so stubborn, so determined not to take the risk of being hurt again, you would realize that you care for him, too." 

"Marcus?" Ivanova asked with a short laugh. "Jeff, have you _met_ Marcus? He's frustrating, annoying, arrogant, stubborn- and he never admits when he's wrong- never! He won't go away, he won't shut up-" 

"Sound familiar?" he asked. 

"No," she snapped. Then, more softly, "No... not possible. I can't-" She glared at him. "Damnit, Jeff, I think I loved Talia, and you see where it got me. You see what good it did me. None, absolutely none. Zip. Zero. Got it? I'm tired of trying, Jeff- I haven't got the strength for it. It's better just to let it go, to not care anymore." 

"Except that you can't do that," Sinclair said. "You can try and hide it, you can try to pretend it doesn't exist- maybe on some level you can even believe that. But deep down you know the truth, and you can't escape it no matter how far you run. You're going to have to face it one of these days. And I think that day is today." 

"Why?" she asked. "Why now? It's too late- even if you're right, it's too late." 

"It's never too late." 

"I'm dying! You said it yourself. I'm dying, and you're matchmaking." 

"Even the dying have feelings, Susan. Sometimes they feel things more strongly then anybody else. Before he met you, Marcus was dying slowly, a piece at a time. You didn't stop that- I don't think anything can- but you did something a lot more important, even if you never knew it." 

"What?" Ivanova asked. "What did I do?" 

"You showed him that he wasn't alone- that neither of you were." 

"Everyone's alone, Jeff. Especially me." 

"You'd like to believe that, but it's not true. Marcus found the chinks in your armor- but you found the ones in his, too." Sinclair paused. "You could show him that the sacrifice was worth it, that the right thing was done. You could do it before you have a chance to doubt it. You'll have enough time to hate yourself for it later..." 

"What?" Ivanova asked. "I don't-" 

"I know," Sinclair said. "I know. You're hurt, tired, confused. You'd like me to shut up so you can get on with this process of dying, if that's what you're going to do. You want to rest, want it to be over. But you've got battles left to fight. Believe me or not as you choose, but...you do." 

"Do I?" she asked. 

"You have a destiny, Susan. To an extent we all do, but-" He shrugged. "Some are harder to face than others. Yours, I think you can manage- if you are strong enough and brave enough. I've never known you to lack for either of those things." 

"So what do I do?" she asked. 

"You do what you must, that's all I can tell you. I only ask one thing- that you _do as your heart tells you._ For this one day, don't second guess it, don't say no when what you really mean is yes. Look inside and follow your heart- wherever it leads." 

"The thought of that scares the hell out of me, Jeff," Ivanova said. 

"I know," Sinclair said. "It will hurt, I won't lie to you. It will hurt all the more because it is brief. But, Susan- only love can heal the wounds of the heart." 

"Whose wounds?" she asked. "His, or mine?" 

"Clever," Sinclair said. "And the answer is both, yours and his." 

"I don't know how-" she began. "I don't even know if I can." 

"You have only to try, and it's the trying that matters. Only love, Susan. Remember that. Only love..." 

She nodded, slowly. "It's my choice, isn't it?" 

"Yes," Sinclair said. "This is something you must decide to do, or not, as you think best. But if you do go back, know that what I said is true. You can't change what is or what will be, but you can change a bit of what was, maybe for the better." He paused. "You remember I spoke of hours? Well, you'll have four of them before the battle starts- between the time Marcus tells you to get some sleep and the time he wakes you up again just before the attack begins. You'll need to make good use of them; they're all you'll have." 

"How-?" 

"Oh, best not to ask that, Susan," Sinclair said with a laugh, "I don't understand the half of it myself, but as someone who's gone back in time much farther than yesterday, trust me, it _can_ be done." 

"Alright." Ivanova paused. "What are you offering me, Jeff? What is this? And what's the price?" 

"The price is exactly as I said- that you can't change some things, no matter how much you want to." 

"I don't believe the future is set," she protested. "I believe there are things we can change-" 

"Yes," Sinclair agreed, "but others are set on the courses they will follow, and there's no dissuading them from these. It is nothing but a small fragment of a second chance- but it's yours if you want it." 

"Yes. I'm probably out of my mind, but I want it." She shrugged. "Maybe it'll even do some good, who knows?" 

Sinclair nodded. "Before, I would have said 'May Valen go with you'. But the fact is that where you're going, I can't follow. If your path leads you back here, this is where I'll be. If you are to die, you won't face it alone, that much I can promise you. _Whatever_ happens, Susan, you will not face it alone." 

"I guess it's got to be enough, doesn't it?" she asked, but it seemed he couldn't or wouldn't answer, and the world changed before her. 

The darkness, the light, Sinclair, the door into beyond, all of it was gone in an instant. She opened her eyes, surprised they were closed, to find herself lying on one of those damned Minbari beds on the White Star. She started to reach for the mechanism that would tilt it back the way she felt a bed _belonged_, then remembered what had happened the last time she tried that, and, not being in the mood to be unceremoniously dumped onto the floor, dropped her hand to her side and decided to leave well enough alone. After a moment she folded her hands on her chest, and was aware suddenly that she had been here before. 

Footsteps approached, and she saw Marcus pause at the doorway, looking at her. Ivanova let her eyes flutter closed, so that he would not see that she was awake, not yet, and listened to him come closer. She felt his hand brush across her face, and held very still, though her heart was beating faster, and she was amazed that the sound didn't seem to echo in his ears the way it did in hers. 

Then he spoke. "You'll never know," Marcus said softly, and she heard his gasp of surprise as she opened her eyes. 

Words formed in her mind - _How long have I been out?_ -but she didn't say them, sensing this as a turning point, and realizing at the same time that those words were not the ones she wanted to say. "Marcus?" Ivanova said. 

He recovered quickly, and made a valiant effort to cover for himself. "You've been asleep about three hours. I wish it could've been more, but-" 

"Marcus." Only his name, and nothing more, but the way she said it this second time made him look at her, _really_ look at her. Marcus met her eyes and was then unable to look away. It was all Ivanova could do not to smile. _So far, so good,_ she thought. 

"Susan, I-" 

"There's something I have to do, while I still can. I've got time, but I don't know how much." _Four hours...and he said I'd slept for three. An hour, maybe a bit less,_ she thought. _I need to do this before I lose my nerve, before I wake up and realize that I'm crazy to even think... I know I'm going to get it all wrong- I always seem to get it wrong, somehow._ "You thought I would never know, but you're wrong. I know, but I'm- I'm afraid and I'm stubborn, Marcus, and there are things I haven't wanted to face. Sometimes it's a hell of a lot easier not to feel, but that's something I can't do anymore. You can only hold onto apathy for so long before it's either got to give way to something else, or you let it destroy you." 

Ivanova paused, took a deep breath- and reached up to draw him towards her. Marcus gasped in surprise, but went willingly where she led. Their lips met in a kiss soft as silk, and Marcus wrapped his arms around her, holding her as he had always wanted to, holding her as he had in his dreams- but she was solid in his arms now, not the ethereal apparition that had always before seemed to slip from his grasp, even in visions and darkness. 

The kiss was everything he had ever dreamed it would be, and more. Behind it he felt her strength, the warrior's heart and the beautiful soul she had seemed never to know she had. And with that, he felt something he had never thought he would- he felt Susan Ivanova letting go, dropping her walls and _letting go_, holding nothing back. He saw her true face, saw that she was everything he had ever believed her to be, and so much more, and Marcus Cole smiled as he held her in his arms. 

She pulled away at last, and smiled. The smile was brilliant, dazzling. Beautiful. "You drive me crazy, Marcus, do you know that? You're arrogant, obnoxious, annoying-" 

"-Stubborn, irritating, and infuriating? I do hope I haven't left anything out," Marcus finished for her. "The same could be said for you, you know. We're a lot alike, you and I." 

"I know," she said, "But I... oh, hell, I don't know what I'm doing here-" _No,_ she thought, _no. I've been saying that for too long. I don't mean it anymore. Maybe I never did._ Ivanova regretted nothing. She closed her eyes and sought within herself, until she felt the truth and could not turn away from it. She opened her eyes and saw that same truth before her, and Ivanova reached for Marcus once again. 

"I'm so scared, Marcus," she said quietly, looking up at him standing over her now, wanting to reach out again. "I'm scared of dying, scared of living. I'm scared of sitting here and telling you the truth, but I don't know how to hide from it anymore." 

"Susan," he said gently, and she was amazed that she had never noticed before how he said her name- as if it were something to be treasured, simply because it was hers. "You don't have to say anything. I know." 

"It's taken a lot for me to get to this point. Let me finish." She paused, he nodded, and then she went on. "There are days I don't know whether to strangle you or kiss you, maybe both at once, but I think I'm falling in love with you, Marcus. I love you, and I'm sorry- That I haven't appreciated your kindness or your compassion, that I've given you so much grief the last couple of years. I'm sorry I was so stubborn and so blind. I'm sorry I wasn't the person you wanted me to be, sorry that maybe I still don't know how to be that person-" 

"Susan, Susan... You are all you've ever needed to be. Don't you know that? I love you for what you are, and I couldn't ever dream of changing a thing about you even if I could." He paused. "Except perhaps your hair. You should wear it down more. Prettier that way, really. Or at least, I think so." 

She laughed, and set her fingers to the task of unbraiding her hair. It hung loose about her shoulders then, and Marcus brushed it back from her face. 

"There," he said. "Now you're perfect. Do you know, I think I've loved you from the moment I first set eyes on you?" Ivanova raised her eyebrows, and Marcus arched his own brows in reply. "It's true, you know. There you were, standing about, giving orders to this one and yelling at that one, so lovely I thought I'd had a vision. And then you yelled at me alongside everyone else, and I knew you were real. I feel as if I've had another of those visions now, and I'm dreading the moment when I wake up. But since I haven't yet, well, it's a very _nice_ delusion, and I shan't worry over it until I'm awake." He paused. "So. Assuming there's a logical explanation for all of this, what's brought about this sudden change of heart?" 

"We've been lucky so far," Ivanova said. "We might not always be. Sheridan's getting killed last year doesn't count; he came back. The rest of us, I really don't think our lives are that charmed _or_ our luck that good." 

"I don't believe in luck," said Marcus. 

"That's exactly my point. This is nearly over, and we've done pretty well for ourselves, excepting Garibaldi's going turncoat on us, but nobody's luck holds forever, and I think ours is just about due to be breaking. If I'm going to die, I'd rather not do it with any more regrets than I've already got." She stopped, looked at him, and then Susan Ivanova wrapped her arms around Marcus Cole and drew him down beside her. 

"I love you, Susan," he said quietly. 

"I did finally figure that out, in case you hadn't noticed." 

"I had, actually." He paused. "And you're right. I figured much the same as you- this would be the worst possible time for our luck to run out, and since I don't believe in it in the first place- You're not the only one who's afraid, you know. I am, too." 

"Of what?" Ivanova asked. She'd called him many things in the last few years and said even more unkind ones that much louder, but the word 'afraid' had never once crossed her mind in connection with Marcus. 

"Of everything, I sometimes think. Of letting people down again, of losing what little bit of a life I've managed to build up for myself...of losing the people I've come to know and to care about...but mostly, I think, afraid of losing you." 

"Me?" she asked. "Do I look like I'm going anywhere?" 

"No, but neither did Sheridan until he got it into his head to take off for Z'ha'dum. And that's not really what I meant. Bad example, anyway. But, Susan... if something were to happen to you, I don't think that I could bear it." 

For a moment she didn't speak, and then she said, "The truth is, I'm afraid of losing you, too, Marcus- of being hurt again, one way or another. I always have been, that's why I've waited so long to say things I should've said a long time ago. But sometimes all you've got is today, and you've got to take that and enjoy it- and let it be enough." 

Marcus nodded. "Eat, drink, and be merry, for tomorrow we die." 

"Exactly," she said. "I don't know about you, but I'm not hungry, the drink I want isn't going to be anyplace on a White Star-" 

Marcus laughed at that. "Nope, most likely not." 

"As for that last one, I'm not sure I remember how to be merry. I'm going to try, though." And Ivanova smiled. 

"Lovely," Marcus said, grinning. "You should do that more often. Lights up your entire face. Now, I'll tell you what. Once all of this nonsense is over, and we've booted Clark out of office and gone back to B5, would you let me take you out to dinner?" 

Ivanova pretended to consider it for a moment. "Yeah, I guess I would." 

"Splendid," Marcus replied. 

She smiled. "Marcus?" 

"Hmm?" 

"_Why_ didn't you let me get another hour of sleep?" 

"_Were_ you sleeping?" 

Ivanova shook her head. "No, not really. I tried, but I guess I had a little bit too much on my mind. You?" 

"Didn't even try," Marcus said. "I sent Lennier and some of the others to get a bit of rest, though." 

"Good. They're going to need it." She paused. "How much more time do we have?" 

"Not nearly enough to say everything I want to," Marcus said. "But we'll make do. I believe there was some mention of being merry?" 

"Might've been," Ivanova said. "Tell me something, though." 

"Anything." 

"How many dreams and fantasies are you fulfilling right now?" 

Marcus laughed. "None." 

"I thought Rangers didn't lie." 

"We never _bluff_. Lying's different, but that's another story- and really, none." He paused, and Ivanova laughed as she saw the flush creeping along his face. "This isn't your bed, now is it?" 

"Marcus!" 

"You _did_ ask." 

Ivanova laughed. "I guess I did." 

"Honestly," Marcus protested, "I'll have you know I indulged in no such fantasies. I won't pretend I have the sort of pure, spiritual love Lennier has for Delenn, but I've always thought that what I felt for you- what there might be between us was, somehow, deeper and more meaningful than that." 

"Spoken like a true virgin. It is a nice sentiment, though," Ivanova said. Then, "Can I ask you a question?" Marcus nodded. "How is it that you never gave up on me? It's been a long two years, and I've been so horrible to you-" 

"Not horrible, Susan," Marcus replied. "Defensive. Protecting yourself, or trying to. There's a difference." At her startled look, he shrugged. "I learned a bit about people while training to be a Ranger- it's something they make you go through before your training is complete. You have to learn to face yourself, to understand who and what you are, and somehow, when that's done, you understand others around you better, too." 

She nodded, and Marcus went on. 

"You'd been hurt before- badly, I believe- and you were trying to keep it from happening again. I do understand that, I really do. No one in their right mind _wants_ to be hurt, Susan. Not even a crazy 'damn fool Ranger' like myself." He smiled and rested his head on her shoulder. "Besides, I've always had hope, you know- for you, for me, for us- well, maybe not for me, but I look at it this way. I, we, all of us, survived the Shadow War- Sheridan's death and resurrection not withstanding, of course. And if I could live through that, it stands to reason that I can survive chancing to fall in love with you." 

"Thanks for not giving up on me, Marcus." 

"Somebody had to have faith in you," Marcus said. "I think you lost quite a bit of it in yourself for a time there." 

"I had...other things on my mind," Ivanova said. 

"Yes, I know. You were the one carrying everybody else's burdens then, and I thought it only fair that one of us ought to carry yours. Or try to, at least." 

"I never wanted anybody to do that for me, Marcus." 

"I know. But you were busy trying to fill Sheridan's shoes, taking care of all of us. Seemed only right we should look after you." He paused. "Do you know, I used to think there wasn't any hope for us because I thought you were in love with him?" 

"Me?" Ivanova asked. "In love with _John_?" She shook her head, laughing. "You've got to be kidding me. He's a good friend, and he's always been something like a brother to me- sometimes I need that." 

"Your brother was older than you, wasn't he?" Marcus asked. Ivanova nodded. "Mine was younger. I miss him terribly." He paused, and turned to look up at her, his head still resting on her shoulder. "It's funny, isn't it, how quickly you can come to care for the people you fight with. You and Sheridan. Sinclair and I. In some ways I don't think I ever really knew him, but he was- is -a good friend. So many faces I know I'll never see again- makes me sad, so I try not to think about it. Can't help it sometimes, though." 

"No," Ivanova said. "You can't. And the others- sometimes I look at them and I wonder, is this the last time I'll ever see this person? Is this the last time I'll ever laugh with this friend, or fight alongside that one? I'd just about trained myself not to feel anymore, not to get attached or to care about anyone. And then you came along. I think that's the one thing that really drove me crazy about you- the way you spun into our lives like this obnoxious whirlwind, and you just never _shut up_, and nothing I said could ever seem to get you down for long..." 

"Ahah!" Marcus exclaimed. "Now I have it! The lovely and talented Susan Ivanova has finally met someone her cynicism can't touch." He paused. "Of course, that might just be because I've cynicism to match yours, and then some, but either way, it's an amusing notion." 

"Remind me again," Ivanova said, "why I haven't killed you yet?" 

"Because you love me?" Marcus replied, and there was a look in his eyes that might have been there for a long time, a thing Ivanova hadn't noticed before, perhaps because she hadn't been looking- had very pointedly not been looking, in fact. There was pain and sadness there to match her own, but along with that there was something else- joy and hope and what could only be love shining through it all, and she swiped at her own eyes twice before realizing she was crying. 

"Here, now," Marcus said quietly, "what's this? I'm sorry, I shouldn't make fun." 

"It's not that at all," Ivanova said, brushing tears from her eyes again. _Damnit, what's wrong with me?_ "Marcus, I..." 

"Susan? What is it?" 

"I just realized exactly how much of a fool I've been, and I'm having a hard time dealing with it, if you absolutely must know. I don't think anyone has ever felt about me the way that you do- not and really meant it." 

"No? Me, either, and I think maybe it's just about time things were changing for both of us," Marcus said. He reached for her and drew her close. Marcus kissed her gently, and Ivanova's arms went tightly 'round him, her fingers brushing through his thick dark hair. "No more regrets, Susan," he whispered, "and no more worries about what tomorrow might bring. Today, now, this moment, that's all that matters." 

"I love you, Marcus." 

"I have always loved you, Susan. Always." 

"I know," Ivanova said, "and when we get back to Babylon 5- _when_ we do- everything changes. It all changes, Marcus, and for the better." 

"How can you be so sure of that?" 

"Because I'm going to make it happen." 

"Just like that?" Marcus asked. "You can't change the world, Susan." 

"Yes," she said matter-of-factly, "I can." 

"Now I know I'm dreaming," Marcus said, "and though it _is_ a delightful dream, I assure you- _Ouch_!" 

Ivanova smiled, and leaned in to kiss him. "Something wrong?" she asked. 

"Wretched woman! Don't play innocent with me- you pinched me!" 

"Yes, and it hurt, didn't it?" she replied. 

"It did, yes," Marcus admitted, "but I still feel as if-" 

"Shut up, Marcus," Ivanova said, and kissed him into silence. 

The next either of them knew of the passage of time, several long moments had gone by, and they looked up as one to see Lennier framed in the doorway. The Minbari's gaze darted up for a moment, then returned to the careful study he'd been making of his shoes. 

"Marcus, Commander Ivanova... I'm sorry to disturb you, but we've received a signal from Delenn. The other ships have nearly reached Mars." 

"Thank you," Ivanova said with a sigh as she sat up. Lennier looked up again, and this time truly seemed to _see_ Marcus lying beside her on the tilted surface that was hardly wide enough for two people. Her expression all but dared him to say anything about it, and Lennier wisely declined that silent challenge. He did, however, smile, and Ivanova and Marcus traded looks. 

"What?" Ivanova asked. 

"Delenn says they won't catch up with us until the next jump after this one, but Captain Sheridan has been freed." 

"_Yes!_" Ivanova exclaimed. 

And, "Good to see something's gone right for once," Marcus said as they slapped palms in the old human gesture known as the "high-five". 

"I thought- you would want to know," Lennier said. He bowed over the fingers of his intertwined hands, and stepped back out of the room. 

"Well," Ivanova said as she gave her uniform coat a tug to straighten it, "I guess we'd better get rolling." 

Marcus nodded, brushed a speck of imagined dust from the shoulder of his Ranger cloak- and leaned in to kiss her deeply. 

"For luck?" Ivanova asked with raised eyebrows. 

"Nope. Told you already, I don't believe in luck." He seemed to suddenly grow serious, and as he spoke again, Marcus gave a formal little bow. "For the honor of the Rangers- in Valen's name. Entil'Zha veni." 

"That's an odd thing to say," Ivanova said after a moment of shocked silence in which she'd been unable to speak. For as he'd said the words he had bowed to _her_, the way she had seen Marcus and the other Rangers bow to Delenn, and, once, onboard the White Star in route to Babylon 4, to Jeffrey Sinclair. 

"Yes, isn't it?" Marcus agreed lightly. "Shall we?" Gallantly he offered her his arm, and she looked at it for a time as if she'd never seen its like before, then shook her head, laughed to herself, and took it. 

* * * 

"Susan, I think you should hear this..." Marcus called, and there was something in his voice... 

_Advanced destroyers._ The words rang in her head, rattling around alongside another phrase. _Alien technology._

In combination they could only mean one thing, given what they knew. 

"Shadowtech," Ivanova whispered, making the word a curse, and Marcus nodded mutely, one hand resting against the back of her command chair. "_Shadowtech._ Damnit, Marcus-" 

He did speak, then. "I know," the Ranger said quietly. "_Bastards._" 

Neither of them said as much, but both Marcus and Ivanova knew that to incorporate Shadow tech into EarthForce ships, even on a small scale, would have required the unthinkable; the horrible, twisted bonding of flesh and machine- and that flesh would be human. For each of the ships they raced to fight, a human life had been- not simply sacrificed, but thrust by the willing hands of their own into a world of terrible, merciless chaos, beings who as they merged with the machine would come to live for only one thing- to destroy, to kill, for chaos was the only legacy the ships' warped CPUs would ever know. 

The nightmarish thing that had once been Anna Sheridan had been one of these, and Ivanova remembered the terrible _wrongness_ she had seen when Anna came to Babylon 5 so many years after she had been thought killed upon the _Icarus_. What she had seen then was all the more the stuff of nightmares, something that haunted her nights still. She had come to know Anna while serving under John Sheridan on Io, and to have known her then, and to see her so many years later and so agonizingly changed... 

Ivanova shook her head in an attempt to clear it of these thoughts, as dwelling on them couldn't change what Clark had done, or what they must do themselves. 

"...Susan?" Marcus asked, sounding as if he'd been calling to her for some time now. 

"Sorry," Ivanova said with a sigh. 

"We'd better tell the Captain that apparently Clark's decided to pick up some of the toys the Shadows left behind," Marcus said. 

"Awfully big toys for someone like Clark- let's just hope he doesn't really know how to play with them," Ivanova replied. 


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: Babylon 5 and its characters don't belong to me. The characters mentioned all belong to J. Michael Straczynski, and my amateur efforts probably can't do justice to his work. 

"Never to Be Alone in the Dark" (2/?)  
by Christine Anderson  
aka Anla'shok Ivanova 

Alarms blazed throughout the ship, Minbari and Humans dashed for their stations, and Susan Ivanova stood from where she had bent over a console, speaking quietly with the Human Ranger stationed there. Quick, nearly running strides carried her to the command chair, and as she neared it, tossing herself towards her destination, Marcus Cole reached his own place at her side. As he slid into position, as Ivanova landed in the command chair and swerved it around quickly to face the forward screen, her upraised hand reached out to Marcus's, palms slapped this time in a gesture of good luck (not that he believed in it, and not that she had much faith left in it by this point), and for the briefest instant his fingers intertwined with hers. 

No one but Lennier was close enough to hear what he said to her as Ivanova's hands danced over the readouts before her, checking status lights one last time. "Entil'Zha veni. In Valen's name, Susan- I love you." Lennier, who had rather suspected something of the sort for over a year now, said and did nothing to indicate he had overheard, and indeed he swore to himself that he had not, for he knew that moment as being rare and powerful between the two, and he would do nothing to mar its beauty. 

Ivanova turned to regard him with a wolfish grin. "I know, Marcus," she said quietly. Here and now she could allow herself to say nothing more, not a word beyond that, and he not only knew it but understood it as well. Then, aloud to the others, her expression still fierce, "Alright, _go_!" 

White Star 90 jumped from hyper- to normal-space in a silent crash of lightning and thunder, and Susan Ivanova rode that storm into the heart of the fire. 

EarthForce's advanced destroyers, with their unholy blend of human and Shadow tech, danced around the White Stars, but the sleek and deadly Minbari-built ships knew their business well, and if they went about it with sorrow that it must be done, they also went about it with a far greater percentage of anger, of fury such as Ivanova herself knew on her White Star's bridge, for the wrongs done innocents in Earth's name, for the things that they had come to the table too late to stop. 

And as they danced, as Susan Ivanova shouted orders to her crew, as Marcus Cole, Lennier, and the others carried them out, the man who had once been Jeffrey Sinclair, and once Valen, waited and watched. Sinclair watched very closely indeed, and he saw a particular moment approaching, drawing ever closer, and he waited, until the time was right in which to act. 

Ivanova had put a tight rein on her temper and held it in check after her first initial explosion... waiting, a part of her knew, for the moment to unleash it, to channel it into what would come. And when that moment came, no one who stood beside her could help but be aware of it, and while some of the other Rangers appeared a bit startled, Marcus nodded a bit to himself. Inwardly, though, he was a bit less calm about the matter- he had expected something of this sort; Ivanova was far too angry for her fury to simply fade away, but he hadn't been quite prepared for the manner in which she would go about letting it out. She spoke, and something in her voice was great and terrible, dark and frightening and so much a part of her that she could not have let it go even if she had wanted to- and somewhere within Marcus, there was a part of him that found itself looking into a mirror- that saw that great and terrible something and recognized it, _understood_ it. 

"Who am I? I am Susan Ivanova, Commander, daughter of Andrei and Sofi Ivanov. I am the right hand of vengeance, and the boot that is going to kick your sorry ass all the way back to Earth, sweetheart. I am death incarnate, and the last living thing that you are _ever_ going to see. _God_ sent me." 

And she fired. Ivanova's fingers traced a delicate dance of death over the silvery keys of her chair's console, and where she focused her attack, little remained but twisted metal. In that moment she seemed everything she had spoken of herself as, and the stars seemed to tremble... 

Once again she snapped out her orders to the fleet in a voice as cold and unyielding as space, and her eyes blazed with anger as an Earth destroyer blew away one of her ship's consorts. The White Stars shifted formation at her command, spinning away from the Earth destroyers and then banking to attack oncemore. 

The instant Sinclair was waiting on came quite suddenly, but he was ready. The firestorm of battle swept White Star 90 and her sisters, and the stars spun before Ivanova and her comrades as the White Star ducked and whirled to avoid the killing shots of her foes. 

All of this Jeffrey Sinclair saw and heard; even the most softly-spoken words he heard, and he gave a moment's thought to the idea, unsuited though it was to an Entil'Zha, of giving Marcus Cole what would seem to have been a much-needed kick in the shins as a reminder that some thing should not be spoken of so openly. But it was only a passing thought, and Sinclair shrugged it aside with a mental sigh. 

Susan Ivanova reached out to the rails on either side of her chair, caught their grip as if to stand, even went so far as to start to rise up- and in that instant, Sinclair saw the reason he had come, and he acted. The warmth and soft pressure of his hands came down upon her shoulders, anchoring her to _that_ place and _that_ time, and Sinclair put everything he had into keeping her rooted to that spot. And somehow, she knew it. Somehow, impossible as it should have been, she recognized the presence that held her fast, and knew it by name. 

_No, Susan,_ he said. _Your place is here, whether you know it or not. _

Jeff? 

Trust me, Susan. Stay where you are, and hold fast. 

Sinclair's hands tightened about her shoulders as the White Star skipped into the path of a stray bit of wreckage, which struck her bow and knocked her aside like a child's toy- and the forward bridge came crashing down around them, punctuated by a few quick shouts as crewmembers leapt out of the way of sparks and falling rubble. 

When the smoke cleared at last several long moments later, none of them seemed aware of the events going on around them. Lennier, though he listened with one ear to the comm traffic, did not seem to notice that the fight had ended, the last of the still- fighting destroyers broken into dust and small fragments- though not, one should think, _quite_ small enough, considering- and nor did Marcus. The Ranger stood still beside Ivanova, as he had stood for what could have been days or weeks or only hours, and he seemed equally unable to process what he was hearing. His hands moved over his boards as if by rote, shunting the appropriate information to Ivanova's console, but she was paying it little more mind than he. 

Marcus had been sure- they had all been sure, in fact- that Ivanova had taken in into her head to rise from her chair and approach the forward views. It was, he knew, second nature for her to desire that closer look, the need that drove her to see with her own eyes so much a part of her that he'd thought she could not deny it. But just this once, it seemed to have worked in her favor that she _hadn't_ done it, and Marcus knew he could not be the only one to realize it. Not the way Lennier and the others gazed at the wreckage on the deck before them, a mixture of horror and relief on their faces that he knew his own expression must have mirrored. 

Ivanova, for her part, knew better than anyone what she had intended to do, but she knew, while the others did not, what it was that had stopped her. And as she gazed at the twisted heap of metal before her, she understood why. _Jeff,_ she thought. There had been no question in her mind at all when the hands that were not there settled over her shoulders, just whose hands they were, and his words had only confirmed what she already knew. _He said- I seem to remember him saying-_ Her thoughts paused, and she struggled to track that one back to its source. _He said that I could only change one small thing, but he never said what **he** could change- or what he might._

"Susan-" Marcus said, breaking the silence at last. 

Ivanova shook her head, and looked just to the side of the forward bridge, the fingers of one hand counting off the Minbari workers, scraped and smudged with soot, who had barely made the dash to safety, and she nodded. She still felt weighted to her seat and unable to stand, but she wasn't entirely sure her legs would have held her yet in any case. 

"Is everyone alright?" Ivanova asked. 

Marcus translated to the workers, and one of the three replied with only a slight hesitation. Ivanova looked at the Ranger for a moment before he took the hint- she still had a bit of trouble with her Minbari at times, and just then her brain was a bit too rattled to properly translate. "Sorry. Bit startled there, I guess. He says their wounds are only superficial, nothing serious." 

Ivanova nodded her thanks, then turned to Lennier. "What's going on out there, Lennier?" 

"The battle appears to be over, Commander. The Earth units have signaled their surrender- those units who are in any shape to surrender, at least." His voice was quiet, and the sobering truth of Lennier's words struck them all as what had once been an Earth destroyer drifted by before them, warped and scarred metal still clearly emblazoned "Cassandra". The name, Ivanova thought, was apt enough, for a destroyer built with Shadows at her heart, but her _soul_ had still been very much that of an Earth Destroyer, and her crew, however loyal to Clark's new order, sons and daughters of Earth as well... Ivanova drew a deep sigh, then nodded. 

"Status?" she called out, and after a pause, the reports began to come back. 

* * * 

Jeffrey Sinclair stood in the moments between moments, and this time he was not alone. Lorien, the First One, stood at his side, and the ancient alien shook his head slowly. 

"You should not have done that, Entil'Zha Valen," he said, but though the words were chastising, the tone was kind, even understanding. "You have changed more than you realize." 

"No," Sinclair said. "I repaid a debt that I've owed for a long time. I have seen too many people I care about die for no reason- and it was time to repay what I owed." 

"She would not have died," Lorien said. "Marcus Cole was meant to die to save her." 

"Yes," Sinclair said quietly, and in that moment he was no longer Jeffrey Sinclair, but Valen. "Yet I have seen where that path leads, and where it leads is not a place any of my loved ones need suffer to go. Not a place _anyone_ need suffer to go- that path is not necessary, only a chance that could have been, but did not _have_ to be." 

Lorien gave a half-bow in the style of the Minbari, but a question appeared unvoiced in his expression, and after a time Sinclair nodded. 

"It was," Sinclair said, and his voice was still soft, "something that Catherine and I decided on, once we realized how all of this would end. I told her the truth, you know- the same truth I told to Catherine, to a lesser extent. To Susan I said that the greater things cannot be changed, but the smaller ones, well..." 

"It is a fine line," Lorien said, "cuts between the two. In a world in which Marcus Cole lived, he, too, had a destiny that awaited him. But that is not reason enough, as you well know." 

"Yes," Sinclair said, "but can you, who saved Sheridan for love, fault me what I do? They had earned a chance- they _deserved_ a chance! I decided long ago to give it to them. We've given each of them that chance, you know- you with Sheridan and Delenn, and I, with first Michael, and now with Susan and Marcus." 

Lorien dipped his head in another nod, this one an acknowledgement of points he could not counter. "You should come away from here." 

"The rest of eternity can wait a few minutes more," Sinclair said. "This is not yet done, and I would see how it ends." 

* * * 

Ivanova and Marcus stepped into the small chapel onboard the White Star. It was a simple affair, the lines of a small crystal garden hardly suggested, so that one deep in meditation could look into them and see many things. Candles stood about the room, some alighting the crystal, some within it, and Marcus moved about to light them. 

"This is," he said quietly, "something we Rangers learned to do when Entil'Zha was still with us. After each battle fought, won or lost, we come, singularly or in groups, as we like, to places like this, and we remember. Sometimes with silence, sometimes with music or laughter or tears- but we remember. We remember the road that brought us here, and those who have recently left us to walk another. We grieve, and we learn to let go- and then we celebrate the living, the gift of life we still have." Marcus paused and smiled a bit. "Or at least that's the theory. Sometimes it can seem a little silly, but there are times-" 

Ivanova nodded, and when Marcus had finished with the candles, sat on the floor beside him. "Sitting here, what I remember is the CPUs of the destroyers... Oh, hell, they turned them into CPUs, but those were _people_, someone's sons and daughters and lovers and friends, and they-" 

"I know," Marcus said, and folded his hand over hers. "I know." He spoke then, bits of Minbari Ivanova could not quite follow, and then he translated. "May those at the heart of the machine find peace at last, in the place where no shadows fall." 

She repeated the Minbari words nearly flawlessly, her accent only slightly off as she seemed to choke back a sob. "So stupid, isn't it?" Ivanova asked. "So many of our own died today, and I weep for creatures who probably didn't even feel the pain except as a loss of data!" 

"You weep," a voice said, "because you are human, and so were they." Jeffrey Sinclair stepped out from within the crystal, his cloak rustling against the floor in a way Ivanova was almost certain was impossible for one who should have been as insubstantial as he. "Hello, Marcus," he added, taking in the Ranger's startled expression with some amusement. 

"Entil'Zha," Marcus said. 

"And at least," Sinclair went on, "no one's weeping for either of you two today." 

"Why would they?" Marcus asked. 

Sinclair could have deliberately misunderstood the question, but he did not. "Because things could have gone differently. Things can _always_ go differently. Sometimes a little, sometimes a lot...it all depends. Take back there, for example- it could have been this ship destroyed instead of White Star 19. Or, when the debris hit-" 

"My god, Susan!" Marcus exclaimed. "You could have been killed!" 

"I might've been," Ivanova said, "if he hadn't been here. Jeff...how did you know?" 

"Time and again I've seen it end like that," Sinclair said quietly, "Susan nearly dying, and you, Marcus, giving your life to save her." 

"How-?" Marcus started to say. 

"Don't even _think_ of asking," Sinclair said. "I know a lot of things that nobody else needs to. That's one of them, and it's going to stay that way." He shook his head at them, looking suddenly very amused. "You two can really make a muck of things, you know. This last could have taken ages to get sorted out, and that's time you might not have had. But we each have, in our own ways, the power to change things. You've exercised yours, and I- I have exercised mine." 

"Jeff-" Ivanova began. 

"Entil'Zha," Marcus said. "I don't know how we can ever-" 

"Live, and live well. That is all the thanks I could ever ask for." Sinclair smiled. "I have never known dearer or better friends than the two of you, and it is I who sought to repay your gift of friendship with a gift of my own- the only gift I had to give. You owe me nothing, but you owe yourselves a great deal, and I think it's time you started taking care of _those_ debts." He paused. "And as for the rest of it- I haven't the power to heal, at least not any more than you or anybody else. All I gave you was a push in the right direction, Susan- what you did with it was up to you. So I ask you only this- take it for what it is, a gift of friendship, freely given, nothing asked or expected in return, only this- take care of each other." 

"I think," Ivanova said quietly, "we can do that. Marcus?" 

"Absolutely," the Ranger said. "Entil'Zha-" And he bowed over his hands, as he'd bowed to Ivanova. 

"Hold fast to one another, dear friends," Sinclair said. "Let each of you be the other's anchor, and never think that you will be lost in the darkness, for you will always have each other. _Always._" 

Sinclair closed his eyes, and his face turned blindly upward for a moment, and then he looked down once more and opened his eyes. He approached them with hands held outward, and Marcus and Ivanova found their own hands reaching out seemingly of their own volition, and then they _touched_, and Jeffrey Sinclair smiled. 

"I can't manage this for very long," he said, "but I thought a proper goodbye would please the three of us more than my simply fading away." 

Ivanova nodded, her expression a bit startled. "I'm not even going to _ask_ how you pulled this one off." 

"The answer probably wouldn't explain very much, anyway," Marcus said. "Entil'Zha-" 

"There's a lot I can't tell you," Sinclair said then, "and a lot that I'd like to, but haven't the words for. In the end, all I can say is- thank you. Your trust, your friendship, has meant more to me- to both of us- than I can ever find words to tell you. Together, you, Sheridan, the others- you dream of a better future, and I know, I believe, that you can make that happen. Marcus, you may never return to Minbar in your lifetime, but know that you don't have to. Tuzanor is a place inside you as much as it is anything else; you carry it in your heart always, and it is as close or as far as you need it to be. And to you, Susan, I give you the same advice I gave once before- follow your heart. Follow your heart, and it will lead you home." 

"I think," Ivanova said, "that maybe it already has." 

"Perhaps," Sinclair smiled, "but you can, as I discovered, have more than one home. Follow your heart, Susan." 

"I will." 

"One last thing. Something you both wondered about, but were unable to ask- I can tell you now, but only if you will swear never to reveal it to another living soul, not even to Delenn, who would really like to know." They both nodded, quietly swore themselves to silence, and only then did Sinclair go on. "You both know that I went where and when I did because it needed to be done- and you both also know that there was another, a deeply personal reason which I shared with no one- but which, I came to realize, I did not have to. You knew, and yet you never asked..." 

"Catherine," they said as one, and Sinclair nodded. 

"Catherine. You both know how and when I lost her- Marcus better than you, Susan, because he was there, but you both know. And I can tell you now what I couldn't before- that I did, at last, find her. You would not recognize her any more than you'd have recognized me after the chrysalis, but we did find one another, and- this is the reason you mustn't tell Delenn, nor _any_ Minbari, for I doubt some would understand it- it was our children who helped to build the future, our children and their descendants who would become known as the Children of Valen." 

"My God," Marcus said. "So much of the Minbari race, descendant from Minbari not born of Minbari..." 

"I think," Ivanova said, "that's the greatest irony I've ever known. And the most beautiful. I used to tease you about her, I know, but- Catherine was a good friend." She smiled. "She'd even just about talked me into wearing that awful bridesmaid's dress and standing for her at your wedding, too-" 

"Which I'd have paid to see, by the way," Marcus added. 

"No doubt!" Sinclair said with a laugh. "I think that Delenn would understand, but she would also either find herself compelled to share the knowledge, or burdened by the weight of yet another secret. I won't have that. In her way, Delenn is very much like one of my daughters- it's almost amazing how much she reminds me of Cailen. Or," he paused, "maybe not so surprising after all. But I don't want to see another burden fall to her because of me." 

"Understood," Marcus said. "It's not our place to tell her, anyway." 

"No," Ivanova agreed, "it's not. And if I told anyone- about _any_ of this! -they'd never believe me." 

"_You_ wouldn't believe you if you weren't standing here," Marcus pointed out. 

"True." 

Sinclair nodded as if confirming to himself something he already knew, and drew the two of them into an embrace. "Three is a powerful number, but so is two, particularly- well, never mind, in some ways I have said too much already- as have you, Marcus." 

"Me?" the Ranger asked. "What could I possibly have-?" 

Sinclair replied not aloud, but silently. _Entil'Zha veni, old friend. **Stop that.** You of all people know that she's hardly stupid, and if you persist in saying things like that-_

"Apologies, Entil'Zha," Marcus said, looking a bit sheepish. 

"Accepted," Sinclair replied. "My friends-" 

"Take care of yourself, Jeff," Ivanova said. She wondered for a moment what it was that Marcus was apologizing for... But then, she thought, just as there were things Delenn and the others didn't need to know, there were things that _she_ did not need to know, and that this was probably one of them. 

"You too, Susan. You, too. Marcus- take care." Sinclair hugged them oncemore and then was gone, and they were left holding one another. 

"He was such a pain in the ass," Ivanova said, "...and I'm going to miss him a hell of a lot." 

"I know," Marcus said. "So will I. But he's right, you know- about a lot of things. We... We've got each other now, don't we?" 

"Of course we do, don't be an idiot," Ivanova said, and kissed him lightly. "_You're_ a pain in the ass, too, you know." 

"Yes, and I'm all yours." 

"I know," she said, and her arms locked around him. Her kiss, when it came again, was this time as desperate as it was passionate, and she wept as she kissed him. Marcus said nothing, simply taking the bruising force of her kisses, the hot tears streaming down her face, knowing it was the only way she could let these things go, the only way she could let out her grief, for Sinclair, for the friends they'd lost today, for the total strangers... 

"I'm sorry," Ivanova said some time later. 

"Don't be," Marcus replied, brushing a strand of hair back from her face and kissing her forehead gently. "I know, and it's alright." 

"I don't know what I've done without you all this time, you damned fool," Ivanova said fondly- and that was when the world seemed to tremble around them, the deck shook beneath their feet, and crystal rained down upon them. 

_Now, that was a really stupid idea,_ some detached portion of Ivanova's mind thought at the crystal shards. _Who put **those** there?_

A bench affixed to the deck broke loose and hurtled towards them, and it seemed they had only time to see it coming directly at them before it hit- 

"_NO!_" Marcus screamed, drawing Ivanova against him and throwing up an arm to deflect some of the debris. The bench knocked them both across the head, and Marcus was almost certain he blacked out for a moment. 

As the ship rocked again and they started to fall, Marcus pushed her down and fell atop her, shielding her body with his own. Something heavy, massive, and sharp collapsed atop them, and Marcus braced himself against the pain. "Susan?" he whispered. "Oh, Susan, no..." 

She blinked up at him with eyes that refused to focus, and the world spun before her. She reached out slowly, raised a hand to touch his shoulder as if to assure herself he was really there. "Marcus?" 

"I'm here, Susan, I'm here. Are you alright?" 

"Think so," she said unsteadily. "I have one hell of a headache, though." 

Marcus smiled. "I'll bet you do. Sorry about that-" 

"Don't be. Saved my life. We're going to have to talk about this selfless devotion crap, though, because I will _kill_ you if you get yourself killed..." She trailed off. "There's something wrong with that statement, but damned if I know what it is." Ivanova reached up again, her hands brushing across the velvet softness of his cloak. Marcus winced in pain from even that light touch, and Ivanova's hands came away bloody and nearly sliced to ribbons. The blood was not only hers, there was too much of it, and piercing the cloak, and his shirt and skin beneath it, were what seemed to be hundreds of crystal shards... "Marcus. _Marcus_- your back-" 

"Don't worry about it," he said. "Let's just get you out of here, shall we?" 

"Alright," Ivanova said. "How?" 

"Can you reach your link?" 

"I think so." She reached for the link with her left hand, and somewhere in the midst of that journey, her elbow slammed into Marcus's stomach. 

"Oof," he gasped. "Susan-" 

"Sorry," she said with a sheepish look, and tapped the link. Her right hand screamed in pain, but she made herself hit it again, hard enough to activate the link. "Ivanova...Bridge." 

"Bridge, Lennier," the Minbari's voice came back. "Commander, we seem to be-" 

"What happened?" she cut him off. 

"Apparently there were a few latecomers to the party- standard destroyers, two of them. The EarthForce ships that have joined us are taking care of them now." He paused. "You don't sound well, Commander, are you-?" 

"She's hurt," Marcus said, "and so am I, rather badly as these things go..." He paused. "Susan? _Susan_?" 

Ivanova didn't answer, nor did she react when Marcus brushed a hand across her face. Her skin was cold and clammy under his fingers, and he swore. "Bloody hell- Lennier, get Stephen. Get him _now._" 

If the Minbari made any reply, Marcus didn't hear it; the whole of his attention focused on Ivanova. "Susan," he whispered, "Susan, please... _please_. I love you. I love you, Susan, and I'm not going to lose you, no matter what. I'm not..." 


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: Babylon 5 and its characters don't belong to me. The characters mentioned all belong to J. Michael Straczynski, and my amateur efforts probably can't do justice to his work. 

"Never to Be Alone in the Dark" (3/?)  
by Christine Anderson  
aka Anla'shok Ivanova 

Jeffrey Sinclair paused with one foot on the path to elsewhere, and turned back. After all this, after they had come so far and accomplished so much, he was _not_ going to see the love his friends had at last found in one another haunted by the specter of Death, not again. 

"Not _again_," Sinclair said aloud, and he was gone back the way he had come before Lorien's sigh escaped the First One's lips. 

* * * 

Marcus drew another agonized breath, and was almost certain he could hear his cracked ribs shifting as he did so. He was just as sure that at least one of those had pierced his lung, which might explain why he couldn't seem to catch his breath as well as why it hurt so bloody much to try. There wasn't much he could do about it, however, and so he concentrated on other things- like a rather futile effort to throw off whatever had collapsed atop him and stand. 

He thought he saw Ivanova open her eyes and blink, and then she seemed to be able to focus again, at something that stood just over his shoulder... Marcus looked back, and saw Sinclair standing there, shaking his head. 

"I can't leave the two of you alone for a minute, can I?" he asked with a smile. 

"Wasn't our fault this time, Jeff," Ivanova said. 

"I know," he replied, and knelt down beside them. "I'd imagine you both hurt like hell, but I think you'll be alright if they can dig you out of here..." 

"But no one's coming, are they?" Marcus asked. 

"Probably not in time, no," Sinclair said. He sighed. "I'm going to have to interfere again, old friend." 

"Do what you must, Entil'Zha Valen," Lorien's voice said. "You will anyway." 

"He's got _that_ right," Sinclair muttered. "Hold on, Marcus." And to the Ranger's amazement, though he should have been expecting something of the sort, Sinclair took hold of the crystal and metal that had fallen upon him and lifted it aside, one piece at a time. "The problem is that this time you can't remember this, because there are rules I'm bound to follow. So hold tight, my friends, and remember this instead- that I love you both, my Rangers, my own." Sinclair placed one hand on Marcus's forehead, the other on Ivanova's, and they fell into unconsciousness again. Sinclair faded from sight before they awoke, and with him went the greater portion of the wreckage he'd cleared away from the two of them. 

Hands reached out while still they lay unmoving, and when the Rangers spilled forth into the room several long minutes later, they found the pair within each other's arms and holding tight, and they could not separate them. Lennier and Delenn were in the lead, and as they looked at one another in silence they had one moment of perfect understanding. They did not speak, but directed the others to sweep the last of the wreckage clear before they lifted the injured pair and bore them away. 

Alone in the chapel now amidst the shattered crystal, Delenn thought for just a moment she saw the ghost of Jeffrey Sinclair walking alongside them, one hand each touching Marcus and Ivanova. She shook her head and closed her eyes, and when she opened them again, he was gone. 

* * * 

Dr. Stephen Franklin dropped down into a rough-hewn chair in the underground headquarters of the Mars Resistance, propped his aching feet up on a nearby rock, and sighed. He was just about through the thought that a drink of water was all he needed to make this moment perfect, when one of the members of the resistance tossed a canteen at him. 

"Hey, man, nice work," the other man said as Stephen took a long drink from the canteen and tossed it back. "Spotters just called it in- looks like the fight upstairs is over. Had a pair of Earth destroyers show up just now and get themselves toasted by your friends up there, too." 

"Thanks," Stephen said. "I'm just as glad my part's over, though." 

"You and me both," said the resistance fighter. "Keep the canteen, you look like you could use it." 

"Yeah," Franklin said. "Kinda dry out there." 

"Dry and cold, that's Mars for ya," the other man said. He vanished into one of the tunnels and reappeared a few minutes later. "Hey, Doc- sorry to bother you when you just got in, but I think you'd better get out here." 

"What is it?" Stephen asked. 

"There's a bunch out front, dressed like your friend, Marcus. Say they're Rangers, and they need you." 

"Damn," Stephen said, heaving himself onto his feet, reaching for his breather with one hand and his coat with the other. "No rest for the weary. Okay, let's go." 

Stephen found himself swept up by the group of Human and Minbari Rangers and stuffed almost bodily onto a shuttle, which then raced towards one of the White Stars. 

"Look," Stephen said, "I can see you're in a hurry, but what is going _on_?" 

"Anla'shok Cole and Commander Ivanova were injured when the straggler ships arrived," one of the Humans said. "The Minbari healers are doing what they can, but-" 

"Oh, hell," said Stephen. With those words he forgot how exhausted, how weary, he was, how many hours he had already worked and how much he wanted to go back to his quarters on Babylon 5 and sleep for a year. He forgot everything except the fact that he was needed once again, everything save the thought that Marcus and Ivanova needed his help. 

When the shuttle docked, Stephen was the first one off, and no one said a word, let alone tried to stop him. As he raced through the halls of the ship, Rangers and crew members pointed the way wordlessly. Stephen skidded to a stop in the Medlab, and gasped. He couldn't help it; Stephen didn't know what he'd expected, but this wasn't it. It seemed fully half the ship's crew was gathered around the beds, and he shooed them away to approach his patients, certain he'd seen something that wasn't there, that the way the others had stood had only made it _look_ like- but they hadn't, and he shook his head. 

"What happened?" Stephen asked, trying to ignore the fact that the way his patients were holding on to one another was not at all normal behavior for the unconscious and seriously wounded. 

"After the battle was over- or so we thought," Lennier spoke up, "Marcus and Commander Ivanova had gone into the chapel to remember. It is something the Rangers learn of during the course of their training, and sometimes those who are close to them wish to share it. That was where we found them after the other ships had come. They fired upon us, and because we did not see them coming, they got off several shots which we could not attempt to doge." 

Delenn took up the thread of the tale then, as Lennier stepped back. "We assume that the fixtures of crystal in the chapel shattered or perhaps even fell when the White Star was struck, and somehow Marcus must have moved to protect Commander Ivanova." 

"You assume?" Stephen asked. "Didn't one of you dig them out?" 

"No," Delenn said. "We did not have to. I cannot explain it. We found them nearly as you see them now, and we _could not get them apart._ Neither has regained consciousness, but they seem to know at some level that we are trying to help them. They are not fighting any longer, at least." 

Someone had pushed two of the beds together, and it was there that the injured pair lay. As Stephen approached the beds, Marcus and Ivanova drew apart, holding hands for a moment over the space between their beds before letting go. It wasn't, quite, the strangest thing Stephen had ever seen, but it was close. 

"Alright," Stephen said, "let's get Marcus onto his back; He's probably worse off." 

Several moments later, Stephen had shooed the majority of the crew out of the room, allowing Delenn and Lennier to stay only because he didn't think he could have thrown them out even if he had tried. Lennier carried periodic status reports out to the others, but Delenn remained in place near them, keeping vigil, and though none of them knew it, she was not alone. 

Jeffrey Sinclair stood with them as well, and he gazed down upon his friends with an expression upon his face that was both tender and sad. Beside him stood Catherine Sakai, the Isil'Zha brooch sparkling upon her cloak. She touched Sinclair's arm, and he nodded slowly. 

"They'll be alright," he said quietly. "I know that. I just don't really want to leave them." 

"I know," Catherine told him, "but they have their own paths to follow now, and so do we." She smiled down at the pair. "Luck, my friends- and our thanks." 

Sinclair held out his hand to her, Catherine took it, and they departed. As soon as they'd gone, Delenn looked up as if she had sensed some change within the room. After a moment she nodded to herself and resumed her vigil. 

* * * 

Though he was badly injured, and, as Stephen had thought, far worse off, it was Marcus who regained consciousness first, and the doctor knew with one look at the Ranger's face that this was going to be a bit of a problem. 

"Is she alright?" Marcus asked. 

"She should be. I'm pretty sure she has a concussion, but we'll have to wait till she wakes up to know for sure. Aside from that, her right hand is sprained, and she's got a broken ankle. You saved her life, you know." 

"I know," Marcus replied. "The concussion's rather obvious, but how did she break her ankle?" 

"I think," Stephen said, "you fell on it." 

"Oh, bloody hell," Marcus said. "She's going to kill me." 

"Not here," Stephen said. "Too many witnesses." 

"Point," Marcus agreed. "What about me?" 

"You'll live, provided she doesn't kill you." 

"That settles it, then," Marcus said. "Make certain my funeral's a nice one, won't you?" 

"You," Stephen said with a laugh and a shake of his head, "are a mess. Six broken ribs, one of which punctured your lung- I fixed that while you were out, by the way, but it's still going to hurt to breathe for a couple days, and you can _forget_ moving around a heck of a lot- twisted ankle, sprained wrist, which you're lucky to not have broken, a mild concussion of your very own, and a collection of cuts and bruises that are going to be very pretty for the next couple weeks." 

The Ranger nodded slowly. "What about my back?" 

"Well," Stephen said lightly, "I'm pretty sure your cloak is ruined, unless there's some mystical Ranger trick for fixing that many tears and soaking out that much blood..." 

"Stephen." 

"Alright, alright. You lost a hell of a lot of blood- thankfully, you have a pretty common blood type, and when we used up most of the stores here, I was able to get the rest from donors. I must've pulled a hundred shards of glass out of your back-" 

"Crystal," Marcus corrected him. 

"You want the rest of the list, or not?" 

"Oh, by all means. Do go on." 

"_Thank_ you. You've got a couple hundred stitches in your back, and some of those wounds cut pretty deep. Some of them also cut muscle, and you'll have to take it easy- and I mean _easy,_ Marcus. If you don't, you'll lose half the stitches in a way I can guarantee you won't enjoy." 

"I'm not arguing," Marcus said. "But, Stephen, I need to know. Will she really, honestly, be alright?" 

"I don't know," Stephen admitted with a sigh. "I'm doing everything I can, but I just don't know. If she comes to, she'll have a chance, and if she doesn't-" 

"No," Marcus whispered. "No! I've only just found her, Stephen, I won't lose her now, I _won't._" 

"Marcus- I know how you feel, but there's only so much we can do. And if you don't calm down, I'm going to have to throw you out." 

"You can't be serious." 

"Oh, I'm serious, alright. You can recover just as well in any Medlab, it doesn't _have_ to be this one, and if you don't settle down, I _will_ send you somewhere else." 

"You'll try," Marcus said, one hand fingering his Minbari pike. "But as long as Susan's here, here is where I intend to stay." 

Stephen threw up his hands. "Alright, alright- but you've _got_ to calm down a little. I know you're worried-" 

"_Worried_?" exclaimed the Ranger. "Worried? Stephen, you have _no idea._ Did they tell you half the bridge collapsed during the fighting? Another moment and she'd have been there. Don't you see? I've nearly lost her twice in one day, and I don't think I could bear it if anything else happened to her." 

Stephen nodded. "You know I can take care of her, Marcus. I _am_ a doctor." 

"And a bloody good one, at that," the Ranger agreed. "I'll be still, I'll even try to shut up if you insist on it, but I'm not going _anywhere_ without Susan." 

Stephen looked to Delenn, but she only shook her head. "Did you expect anything else of him, Stephen?" she asked. 

"No, but I guess I can dream. Alright, Marcus, you win this round. But you've got to lie _still_, and-" 

Marcus lay back, or tried to. Unfortunately, he did it on his back, and it was all he could do to clench his teeth against the pain instead of crying out. Stephen shook his head, but wordlessly helped him onto his stomach. 

"I was going to say," the doctor added, "that you're not going to be lying down that way for a while. You're not going to be sitting back against anything, either." 

"I see that now, thank you," Marcus said. He was silent for a moment, then, "Stephen? If I was hurt worse, why is she still unconscious?" 

"Overall you _are_ worse," Stephen told him, "but her head injury is worse than yours, and it's going to take her a while to come back from it. I wanted to keep her sedated until the swelling goes down a bit." 

"Hmm." Marcus nodded. "And the sedatives should be wearing off when, exactly?" 

"Soon," Stephen said. "After that, it's up to her." He turned to Delenn. "_You_, at least, should go and get some rest." 

Delenn nodded. "I will do so, as soon as I've updated the others on their condition." She turned to the injured Ranger. "Marcus, keep an eye on Commander Ivanova, please. If she decides she has recovered enough to return to duty- and I think she will, as soon as she is awake -we will need someone to pick her up and put her back to bed without wounding her pride too badly. Can you do that?" 

"If I can't, what's one more bruise?" Marcus quipped. 

"Depends how hard she hits you," was Stephen's reply, as Delenn rose and headed towards the door. "But listen, as long as you're here and being stubborn as usual, you can make yourself useful, too." 

"How?" Marcus asked. 

"Talk to her. She can probably hear you, and sometimes it helps. If she thinks she's got something to come back for..." 

"She does," Marcus snapped. There were times when he found Stephen's bedside manner singularly lacking, and this was one of them. 

The doctor held up his hands in surrender. "Which reminds me, I guess I owe you a couple credits." 

"Never mention that again," Marcus said. "Please. I'm damaged enough as is today." 

Before Stephen could reply, if he'd been of a mind to, Marcus turned carefully on his side, reached for Ivanova's hand, and began to speak quietly to her. Later, he was not able to recall his words, or the order in which he spoke them; Marcus knew only that he had told her, again and again, of his love for her, and of the fact that he was there, watching over her and waiting for her to wake up. For a time he didn't think that it would ever work, but then he was almost certain that he'd felt her squeeze his hand. When she did it again he was sure, and Marcus smiled. 

"Welcome back, Susan," he said as her eyes opened and she looked over at him. 

"Hi," she said. "What the hell happened to you?" 

"Oh, nothing much. The chapel's a bit of a mess, I'm afraid, and we were standing in the middle of it when it got that way. Something about a couple of Earth destroyers who arrived rather late and still thought they could take us on and win. Clark's not hiring too many sharp ones these days, and his on-the-job training program doesn't seem to be going very well, either. How do you feel?" 

"I _hurt_," Ivanova said. Then, "Marcus?" 

"Hmm?" 

"Why is the room spinning?" 

"Concussion, Stephen says. We're a matched set as far as that goes." 

"Charming. What else is wrong with you?" 

"Let me see...Broken ribs, punctured lung, sprained wrist, twisted ankle- oh yes, and I'm entirely mad, but Stephen couldn't do much about that last." 

Ivanova laughed. "I've got news for you, sweetheart. You were crazy _before_ half the world fell on you." She shook her head, then winced as her headache grew. "Ow. Remind me not to do that again... I swear, though, only the Minbari would use real crystal on a _warship._ I'm sure it's traditional, but it's also _really_ impractical." 

"Yes, and it's a good thing you have such a hard head, isn't it?" Stephen asked. 

"Argh- Stephen, as soon as I can stand on my own two feet-" 

"Which thankfully won't be for a while," he said with a laugh. "Your ankle is broken. You owe Marcus for that, by the way." 

"Oh, thank you very much, Doctor Franklin," Marcus said with a sigh. "Why don't you just paint a giant target on me while you're at it? Something bright red, I think, with the words 'shoot me now' in large letters?" 

"Be nice, Stephen," Ivanova said. "I could've done without any broken bones, but yelling at Marcus for saving my life would send the wrong message." 

"And he might not do it again next time if you hurt him too much," Stephen added. 

"You," Ivanova said, "are insufferable. When can I go home?" 

"We," Marcus corrected. "You're not going anywhere without me." 

"Well," Stephen said, "the Captain's still got Earth to deal with, and we're not going back to Babylon 5 until that's taken care of. You two, however, will still be right here when we get to B5." 

Ivanova and Marcus traded looks, and it was nearly all Stephen could do not to throw up his hands and sigh. He knew _that_ look, and it meant trouble. The two worst patients he'd ever known had just combined into one patient who was far, far worse, and he wasn't sure anybody was up to _that_ challenge, let alone him. 

"Damnit, Stephen," Ivanova said. "We're injured, not dead, and we're sure as _hell_ not useless!" 

"No, what you are is very badly hurt," Franklin said, "and since neither of you seems to be able to stay conscious for more than five minutes at a time-" 

"Can you least tell us what's going on?" Marcus asked. 

"Captain Sheridan's going the rest of the way on the _Agamemnon_, with the other White Stars and our EarthForce ships following behind," Stephen told them, knowing the fight wasn't over just yet but willing to accept the change of subject rather than continue to lose said fight. "Delenn's taken command of one of the Minbari war cruisers, and believe me when I tell you, it was about all I could do to convince them to let you stay here instead of sending you straight back to B5, which is what they _wanted_ to do in the first place." 

"_What_?" Ivanova demanded. 

Stephen winced. "Fortunately, I was able to convince them that they might just need me-" 

"And," Michael Garibaldi added from the doorway, "Stephen figures, even as much of a wreck as you guys are, you'd still be able to beat the crap out of him if you really wanted to." 

"We still _might_," Marcus said quietly. 

"Nothing else to do," Ivanova agreed, and Garibaldi and Franklin traded troubled looks. 

Garibaldi held up his hands. "Hey, I'm out of here- just wanted to come see how you guys were doing." 

"Fine," Ivanova said shortly. "When the hell did you get here, and why didn't anyone tell me?" 

"About a half-hour ago, and because I _think_ you were unconscious at the time," Garibaldi replied. 

Ivanova rolled over onto her other side so that she wouldn't have to look at him. "Get out, Michael." 

"Damnit, Susan- Look, I'm the one who helped get Sheridan _out_, alright?" 

"You're also the one who got him captured in the first place," Marcus pointed out. "Go away." 

Garibaldi sighed. "Fine. Just forget it. I'll go. It doesn't matter, of course, that I nearly got myself _killed_ rescuing Sheridan, _or_ that all of this was Bester's fault, not mine." 

"I swear to God, Garibaldi, one more word and-" 

"And what, Susan? You think there's anything you could do to me that would be any worse than knowing I betrayed my friends because Bester messed with my mind, and that he probably got his rocks off in the process of screwing with me or watching the after effects? Or both? Huh? Give me a break. You couldn't _possibly_ make my life any worse than it is right now, trust me." 

"Michael-" Stephen began. 

And, "Mister Garibaldi, if I were you, I'd leave, right now," Marcus said. 

Almost before they'd finished speaking, however, Ivanova rolled back to face Garibaldi, and her good leg shot out in a snap-kick that sent him reeling back from her bedside. He'd hardly recovered from _that_ when she launched herself from the bed towards him, and though there was a depth of anger and betrayal in her eyes he'd never seen before, her every motion was precise and controlled, allowing for her own injuries. And Michael Garibaldi knew that it wouldn't matter that he was stronger than her, or that his weight was greater. She could, and _would_, kill him with her bare hands before he could even begin to use any of that in his favor. 

"Susan!" Stephen was screaming. "Susan, listen to me- I know it sounds crazy, but it's true- Lyta scanned him, and it's _true_!" 

Garibaldi felt the fingers of her good hand digging into his throat, and closed his eyes. This was it. At least he wouldn't have to live like this anymore- 

And suddenly, the pressure eased. Ivanova sat back and withdrew her hand. 

"Susan?" Stephen asked. 

"Feel better now?" Garibaldi quipped. He had just enough time to see Marcus mouth the word "Don't" at him before her fist came hurtling towards his face and connected none too gently. "Okay...guess I earned that one." 

"Yeah. Guess you did," Ivanova said dully. 

Marcus hopped off his bed, and Stephen was too busy watching Garibaldi and Ivanova to notice until the Ranger stood at her side. He held out his good hand, and she took it in hers, climbing to her feet with hesitant, jerky movements. 

"I think that's enough for a bit, don't you?" the Ranger asked lightly as he helped her back to bed. "You can always beat him up again later if you'd like." 

"Thanks, Marcus," Garibaldi said, sounding offended. 

Marcus turned and pointed a finger at him. "You. Be quiet. You brought that on yourself, you know. If you had started from the beginning and _not_ made an ass of yourself when she was close enough to make you pay for it-" 

"I hate to say it, but he's right," Stephen said. "You want some ice, Michael?" 

"Nah," said Garibaldi. "I think I'm gonna go find Lennier and pass the word." 

"What word?" Stephen asked. 

"I'm not sure about Marcus yet, but I think Ivanova's gonna be just _fine._" 


	4. Chapter 4

Disclaimer: Babylon 5 and its characters don't belong to me. The characters mentioned all belong to J. Michael Straczynski, and my amateur efforts probably can't do justice to his work. 

"Never to Be Alone in the Dark" (4/?)  
by Christine Anderson  
aka Anla'shok Ivanova 

Ivanova had paced past Marcus on her crutches approximately six times before he decided he'd had enough. He reached out and caught hold of her arm, and beckoned her closer. Ivanova scowled, but limped over to stand beside him. 

"What?" she asked irritably, but Marcus had learned long ago how to shrug off her little fits of temper, at least those that weren't directed at him, as this one wasn't. Her annoyance was situational, not personal, and that was something he could understand very well. 

"You're making me dizzy." 

"Oh?" she asked. "I'm making _myself_ dizzy, too, but at least I'm accomplishing something." 

"At least you're alive to be accomplishing _anything_," Marcus replied. 

Ivanova dipped her head in a nod, then groaned quietly as the world spun before her. "One of these days I'm going to remember not to do that." She paused. "You're right, you know- and _that_ doesn't help, either." 

"I know." Marcus paused. "Shall we limp our way to the bridge and see if Lennier's heard anything?" 

"Why not?" Ivanova asked, bracing herself against the crutches once again. "Ready?" 

"Absolutely," Marcus replied. 

It would have taken them quite some time to reach the White Star's bridge, Marcus moving with a halting limp, Ivanova shuffling her crutches forward and then swinging herself along in their wake. Stephen Franklin had made his first mistake of the day by releasing Ivanova, but not Marcus, from Medlab. He'd then made his second by absenting himself while the Ranger appeared to be unconscious. It hadn't taken him more than fifteen minutes of very slow and careful walking to catch up with Ivanova. Since then they had sometimes paced, sometimes rested, in a little-traveled corridor of the White Star, Marcus propping his hands against the wall when he grew weary of pacing, since he could not rest his back without a lot more pain than it would've been worth. In keeping with Stephen's orders, both took it easy, but seemed determined to do it on their own terms. 

Theirs was a frustrating lack of progress, and they did their best to mask their relief when, little more than halfway to their destination, they encountered Lennier. 

"Marcus- Commander Ivanova- Should you be up yet?" 

"I don't know, Lennier," Marcus replied with an approximation of a shrug, immediately followed by a brief wince of pain, "but we're here. Have you heard anything?" 

"No," Lennier replied, "not since the fighting began. Delenn sent a message saying it had started, but-" 

"Delenn?" Marcus asked. 

"Yes, she departed some time ago, to catch up with the others. She will wait with them in hyperspace near the Earth jump gate." 

Ivanova nodded. Of course Delenn would want to be there. _She_ wanted to be there too, and was more than a little annoyed because she couldn't be. Ivanova wasn't used to be left behind; no matter how badly hurt, she wanted to be in the thick of things, not sitting on the sidelines waiting for news. 

None of which, of course, was Lennier's fault, and Ivanova sighed and nodded. "Alright. Come find us if you hear anything at all." 

"I will." Lennier paused. "And where will I find you?" 

"Medlab?" Marcus suggested. Ivanova swung one of her crutches at him. "Or not." 

"Bunk room?" Ivanova suggested. 

Marcus shrugged. "Why not? Doubt we'll get much rest, but at least we can say we tried. And it'll keep us out of Stephen's clutches a while longer." 

Ivanova nodded. "That's where we'll be, then." 

Lennier nodded back. "Commander, can I-? That is, do either of you require assistance?" 

"We got this far on our own," Marcus replied, "I think we can just about manage. Thanks, though." He turned to regard Ivanova. "Unless perhaps you'd like some help?" 

"Marcus." 

"Sorry, sorry- just a suggestion." 

* * * 

Despite Marcus's doubts, both he and Ivanova fell almost immediately asleep, thanks in no small part to Sinclair and Lorien, and as they slept, they dreamed. 

Together they walked under the crystal spires of Tuzanor, a place familiar to Marcus but virtually unknown to Ivanova. They walked hand in hand, and as they did, it seemed to Ivanova that she saw images in the crystal, reflections of what was not there, and she understood somehow in the way of dreams that these were images of the future, of what might be. 

They stopped to watch the images, and they saw both the amazing and the terrible. They saw those that they knew raised to greatness, saw others falling to ruin, saw the world as it would be in coming years and coming ages. And there was a day, a day twenty years into the future, when they, older, far more weary, gathered about a table in a room of vaguely Minbari style, and they raised their glasses to absent friends, to those who had gone before... 

_Londo._

It was Vir who spoke the first name, his voice joined by Sheridan's, a Vir they hardly recognized, such was the change that had come over him. Resplendent in the Imperial white, he looked out at the world from eyes that had seen too much, but for a moment he was again the lighthearted fool who had come to Babylon 5 so many years ago. 

_Lennier._

Delenn's hair was cut short and streaked with the first touches of grey, and there was about her a great sense of sadness, her shoulders maybe just a bit stooped under the accustomed weight of long pain. She spoke her old friend's name as if it were only a very small part of that pain. 

_G'Kar._

Garibaldi, a glass of water before him, and that as much as anything else about his bearing spoke volumes for the ways in which _he_ had changed, speaking the name of the one who had risked much and lost even more to find him so very long ago. 

_Marcus._

Ivanova spun, eyes widened in horror, to regard her older self, a Susan Ivanova who looked so haunted, so old and so very weary, that she wanted to weep. The others had spoken of those they had lost, and she had done no different, but the pain in that statement was so much greater, and everyone at that table knew it... 

The world twisted and turned before her, and Ivanova, unable to stand, fell to her knees. It was only then that she realized she was alone, that Marcus was not with her, and a scream tore lose from her, leaving her throat raw in its wake. It was wordless, and then somehow it became a word, and the word was a denial of such horrible truth- 

"_NO!_" 

Hands caught her, raised her up and held her, and Ivanova felt the tears spring free of her eyes at last as she looked up into the kindly face of Jeffrey Sinclair. 

"Damn you," she whispered, her voice hoarse. "_Damn_ you, Jeff- You should have let me die!" 

"No," Sinclair said softly. "No, Susan. You're wrong." 

"How could I be?" she asked. "How? If this is how it ends- If that's where I'll be twenty years from now, Sheridan dying and the rest of us having lost so much, and Marcus- Marcus..." 

"This," Sinclair said, still speaking softly, "will never be. Not like this. I- you- _we_ -have seen to that, the three of us. You did your part, and I did mine." 

Ivanova saw in her mind's eye then the doorway between life and death, and herself standing at its threshold. She heard the words they'd spoken to one another then as if at a great distance. 

_"You cannot change today, and you cannot change tomorrow, but if you wish, you can change one small thing of yesterday."_

"You could have said so," Ivanova said. 

"No," he replied. "I couldn't explain any more than I did." 

She sighed. "I know, but..." Ivanova gestured to the scene before them, frozen now and grown dark, as if fading. "What about all of this?" 

"This day will still come- you know that. Sheridan will die, and before he does he will call you to his side. He will call Vir, Michael, Stephen, you, and Marcus. And all of you will go. You will bind together oncemore in your grief, and it is your friendship which will sustain you through that grief. It is also that friendship which will enable you to transform it into something which will insure that Sheridan's dream lives on beyond all of you, and your children's children. Things can't always stay the same, Susan, but what is built, if it's built well- endures." 

Ivanova nodded, wondering whose name she would speak when the years had passed and they sat, old friends gathered once more around this table. 

"The sad part is that you'll have no shortage of fallen comrades to remember, Susan," Sinclair said in answer to her unspoken question, "but you won't be grieving for each other, any more than you should..." 

"And the others?" she asked. "G'Kar, Londo, Lennier?" 

Sinclair shook his head. "I'm sorry, Susan. Even I cannot change the paths they are walking- only they can do that, and that only if they choose to." He paused. "Remember what I told you- that you owe yourselves, not me. You and Marcus did the difficult things; I only pointed you in the right directions." 

"And saved us a time or two," Marcus added as he came to stand beside them. 

"I thought I made it clear you weren't supposed to remember that," Sinclair said with a sigh, but his tone of voice and his expression both were amused. 

"Sorry about that," Marcus said, not sounding particularly apologetic. "I know lots of things I'm not supposed to, though, and I've always kept secrets rather well, or so I like to think-" 

"Most of the time, yes," Sinclair said. He shook his head and smiled, but then his expression turned serious oncemore. "This day," Sinclair gestured to the scene frozen before them now, "_will_ still come. But it will come as tomorrow comes, in its own place and time. And in the meantime, in the years between now and then... What happens, I leave in your hands." 

"Jeff," Ivanova said, brushing at her eyes to wipe away a tear. "I-" 

"I know, Susan," Sinclair replied. "I know. You'll see me again, don't worry." He smiled. "You'll both see me again, many, many years from now." He paused. "Try and stay out of trouble, please. I _really_ can't come to your rescue again." 

Ivanova was never sure what made her do it, but after she had hugged him one last time and drawn away to stand beside Marcus, she bowed over her folded hands. "Entil'Zha veni, Jeff. Take care." 

"Goodbye, my dear old friends." 

* * * 

They woke just as the White Star's movement slowed, then ceased altogether. Like sleeping children whose proximity to home brought them slowly awake, they sensed that approach of the safe and the familiar. Marcus and Ivanova returned from their dreams to the sight of Babylon 5 growing ever larger in the viewers. 

The next hours were a blur of words and motion, during which Ivanova remained on Babylon 5, Marcus at her side, only long enough to learn that the battle for Earth had been won. That, among other things, told where they stood and what they were to do. 

A call to the _Agamemnon_ revealed that after Susanna Luchenko had been named Clark's successor, Captain Sheridan turned himself over to her government. Though the _Agamemnon_'s captain seemed surprised, Ivanova wasn't, nor did she doubt the wisdom of Sheridan's actions. They told her that the next phase of his plan had begun, the last and perhaps the most dangerous phase, and with that information in hand, Ivanova and the others left at once for Earth. 

No one, not even Dr. Franklin, was brave enough to suggest that she might not have been up to the journey, and one look at the Ranger limping along in the wake of Ivanova's crutches said he wouldn't have gotten far making similar suggestions to Marcus, either. 

When the pair reached the White Star, Delenn and several Minbari swept them up in a minor whirlwind, which they emerged from with torn and bloody uniforms consigned to the recycler, injuries expertly tended by Minbari physicians. Quite liberal doses of painkillers insured they felt no pain, and yet were still every bit as coherent as they could have hoped to be. All of this done, Marcus was carried off in one direction by Lennier, Ivanova in another by Delenn. 

Making a good impression upon everyone who would see what they were about to do, the billions of ISN viewers, and those they would face in person, was almost as important as the battles they had so recently fought, and with this in mind, Delenn, Lennier, and the crew of the White Star had cleaned them up as best they could in the time they had to work with. 

Marcus found himself swathed in the folds of a new Ranger cloak, worn over an equally new uniform shirt. Though his old cloak was, as Stephen had predicted, more or less ruined, the Isil'Zha brooch bore not a scratch, nor so much as a single speck of blood. It seemed impervious to harm, which caused Lennier and the other, non Anla'shok, Minbari to exclaim in shock and surprise. When one of them invoked Valen's name, Marcus had to smile to himself and bite his lip to keep from laughing aloud, because he rather suspected that his old friend, the Entil'Zha, did have something to do with it. 

Ivanova draped a dress uniform coat over one shoulder, more casually than she'd have liked, but there was no help for it. Her braced wrist wouldn't go through the sleeve without ruining it. That brace, however, had been hastily dyed an almost-matching dark navy, and one of her boots was cut to fit over her cast, then fastened together over it with the magical adhesive powers of duct tape (also dyed). Ivanova knew that she looked, probably not her best, but as good as she was going to, considering. 

Both still appeared hurt; there was no help for that. Marcus' range of movement was severely limited by both the injuries to his back and the numerous stitches required to keep them closed as they healed, and, despite much-wounded pride, Ivanova still bore her crutches. They would both carry themselves proudly, if wearily, now, and that would make as much of a difference to them as it would to anyone else. 

"Thanks, Delenn," Ivanova said as she leaned towards her reflection in a small wall mirror, giving her unbound hair one last stroke of the hairbrush before handing it back to the Minbari woman. 

"You are welcome, Susan," Delenn replied with a small smile. "Lennier tells me it is nearly time. Are you ready?" 

Knowing she would have to be, Ivanova nodded once. Reaching for her crutches, she settled them under her arms and started for the door. 

In the hall beyond stood Marcus, nervously intertwining his fingers, drawing them apart, then intertwining them again. He studied his hands, suddenly afraid to look at her. 

Ivanova ducked her head, letting her hair fall forward in an attempt to hide her grin. "Marcus?" 

The Ranger looked up. "S-Susan?" 

She smiled, started to speak, then- 

"Susan? Marcus?" A long pause. "Delenn." 

As one, they turned, gasped... 

"John!" Delenn cried softly from just behind them, then she was running past, into his arms, and John Sheridan swept her up clear off the floor. Sheridan smiled, kissed her once, gently, and set her down. One arm around her shoulders, with Delenn's head resting comfortable against his shoulder, Sheridan turned to regard Marcus and Ivanova. 

Propping one elbow on her crutch, Ivanova raised a hand and waved. "Hey, John." 

"Is everyone alright?" Sheridan asked, looking between Delenn, Marcus, and Ivanova, before settling his gaze on Delenn. 

"We're fine. Are you?" Ivanova asked bluntly. 

"Let's just say they've learned their lessons, and have been treating me very well. President Luchenko and I have come to an understanding-" 

"At the point of a sword, I'd bet," Marcus said none too quietly. 

Sheridan shrugged. "Maybe, but the important thing was keeping the rest of you out of trouble, and I've done that. I had to make some concessions, but it could have been a lot worse, for all of us." 

A young man in EarthForce uniform appeared at the other end of the hall. "Sir? They're ready for you now." 

Sheridan nodded. "Thank you. I'll be right there." He turned back to Delenn, and spoke softly enough that the EarthForce officer could not have heard, and softly enough that the others could pretend they hadn't, either. "We're ready for this, Delenn. We've _been_ ready." 

"Yes." 

"The others-?" 

"They await only our signal," Delenn said. 

Sheridan nodded. "Good. The rest of you, Susan, Marcus, you know what to do and when?" 

"Yes, sir," Marcus said. He looked at Ivanova. "Shall we?" 

She smiled, leaned over, and kissed him on the lips. "Let's go." 

Sheridan raised his eyebrows at that, then slowly closed one eye in a wink before turning to follow his guide into EarthDome's press briefing room. 

* * * 

"Before I ask President Luchenko and her Joint Chiefs to accept my resignation," John Sheridan concluded his words to those assembled, "with your permission, Madame President, ladies and gentlemen, there is one small thing I would like to do, as my final act as an officer of EarthForce." 

Luchenko cocked her head thoughtfully to the side, then nodded. "Very well, Captain. Proceed." Her expression, however, cautioned him that should he ask too much, they would have to have at least a brief...conversation on the subject before she granted his request. 

Sheridan turned to those who stood off to one side of the podium, against the farthest wall, and gestured to one of them. "Commander Susan Andreyevna Ivanova, would you step forward, please?" 

Ivanova, who of all the Babylon 5 officers had been seated, rose to her feet, clutching the arm of her chair to keep from falling. The Ranger seeming to be standing sentry at her side held out her crutches, and helped her settle her weight onto them. 

Ivanova mouthed a "thank you" to Marcus, and shot him a questioning look. He shrugged fractionally, having no more idea what the Captain was up to this time than she did. Delenn, though, wore a small, rather pleased smile that led Ivanova to suspect that _she_, at least, had been in on Sheridan's latest scheme- whatever it was. 

Sheridan smiled as she approached him, swinging forward upon the crutches. "Many of you," he said, "know Commander Ivanova at least by reputation as my second-in-command. Those of you who've ever been to Babylon 5 know that she's the one who handles its day-to-day operations, and she handles them very well. She's also more recently been the Voice of the Resistance, reporting the real news about recent events for B5, Earth, Mars, Proxima, and anyone else with the courage to listen. When Captain Sinclair of Babylon 5 became Ambassador Sinclair, Earth liaison to Minbar, he left on his desk a request that the officer who replaced him on Babylon 5 examine the exemplary record of then-Lieutenant Commander Ivanova, and consider her for promotion to Commander." 

Ivanova stood beside him by this point, and, conscious of their audience, did not say any of the things she wanted to say, nor did she do any of the things she wanted to do. She did not curse her Captain, her friend, nor did she hit him. She didn't laugh or cry or dash headlong from the room as quickly as her sore muscles and broken bones could carry her. Instead she remained silent on her crutches, bad foot held off the ground. 

"Commander Ivanova and the other members of my crew have been granted amnesty for their actions in support of our recent campaign, but I still can't help but think that, were I to follow Sinclair's example, something tragic and very accidental would happen to that request. I'm sure it wouldn't be intentional," he added with a wry smile that said he was sure of no such thing, and Ivanova saw Luchenko's eyes narrow, "but it might still happen, and I cannot allow that. Commander Ivanova's excellent record of service, her dedication, and her many actions above and beyond the call of duty, say that I cannot allow that. So I ask you, Madame President, before witnesses enough to insure there is no chance of this slipping through the cracks before it can be given proper consideration, to allow me this- that you confer upon Susan Ivanova the rank of full Captain." 

Ivanova had known where this was leading from the moment he began speaking, and still, when he was done, she was barely able to hold back a gasp of surprise at Sheridan's words. "Captain-" she managed to gasp out. "Sir..." 

Sheridan smiled. "You've more than earned it, Susan," he said quietly, in a voice low enough that the microphones didn't catch it. 

President Luchenko nodded once, slowly, and stepped back up to Sheridan's other side. "For an officer who has served Earth so very well, Captain, I can do no less. But it will be you, not I, who grants Commander Ivanova's new rank." 

"Yes, ma'am," Sheridan said. 

Luchenko extended a hand to Ivanova. "Congratulations, Commander- or should I say, Captain." 

"Thank you, Madame President," Ivanova said. 

"Captain Ivanova! Captain Ivanova!" Various members of the press began to shout her name, calling questions towards the front of the room. Ivanova glanced at Sheridan and Luchenko out of the corner of her eye, unable to think of a single reply to even one question which would be polite in the least. The only advantage she could see to that was that there was no chance they'd ever air a single word of any of those replies. 

Sheridan looked as if he was moments away from saying something, but it was Luchenko who saved her, with an upraised hand. "Ladies and gentlemen, please. Commander Ivanova was only recently injured, and I am sure you will forgive her if she returns to her seat now." 

"Thank you, Madame President," Ivanova said quietly, starting to turn her crutches. 

Luchenko smiled, and kissed each of her cheeks. "Congratulations, countrywomen." With a few quick, quiet words in Russian for Ivanova's ears alone, the Earth Alliance President helped her turn on her crutches back the way she had come. The reporters began to shout their questions at Luchenko before Ivanova's back was completely turned, enabling her to escape into blessed obscurity. 

Ivanova sank gratefully back into her chair, glad to be off of legs that trembled far more than they hurt just then. 

"What did she say?" Marcus whispered under cover of taking the crutches and propping them against the wall between them. He didn't really need to be so quiet, Ivanova thought, considering just how vocal the press was becoming. With the spotlight back on Luchenko and Sheridan, their attention, and the questions each tried to shout over those of his or her fellows, was focused there once again. 

Ivanova laughed softly beneath eyes hooded but smiling. "'Leave the vultures to me and escape while you can, little sister.'" 

Marcus grinned. "Captain Ivanova?" he asked. "Has a nice ring to it, don't you think?" 

"I could get used to it," she admitted. "I've always wanted my own ship, you know, but..." 

"What?" 

"Sheridan's forced retirement leaves me nominally in command of B5, _and_ I'm the highest-ranked EarthForce officer who served with him during the last year. The only thing they _can't_ do is shoot me; they never promised not to give me command of a garbage tug, a scout ship on the edge of Pak'ma'ra space, or-" 

"You," Marcus said fondly, "are a pessimist." 

"I am Russian," Ivanova corrected him. 

"Isn't that what I just said?" 

Ivanova shook her head, but before she had a chance to reply, Lennier approached them, and handed Ivanova a small slip of paper before withdrawing again. Almost no one else saw the Minbari aide's unobtrusive arrival and departure, except those who had been watching and waiting for him and the message he carried. 

"What is it?" Marcus asked as she unfolded the paper and read the few words written there. 

"It's time. Help me up?" 

"Be glad to," Marcus said, standing and helping her to her feet. With everyone's attention focused upon Luchenko and Sheridan, no one noticed when he and Ivanova stepped from the room, except Delenn. She folded her hands under her chin, and, behind the podium, John Sheridan nodded very slightly. 

As soon as they were into the hall and out of earshot of the reporters, Ivanova tapped her link. "Ivanova to White Star fleet. Prepare to enter atmosphere on my mark." 

"Acknowledged," came the voice of one of the Minbari Rangers. 

Marcus stood in the doorway, listening as Luchenko introduced Delenn, who then began to speak. He waited until she'd reached the point in her speech they'd agreed on, the moment when she mentioned the Rangers- to her people, the Anla'shok. Then he made a quick gesture with his hand, and Ivanova turned to her link oncemore. 

"Now," Ivanova said, and EarthDome trembled at the passing of hundreds of Minbari-built White Stars, as they danced in the skies overhead like a flock of birds, growing ever-larger as they came in to land. 

"Think they'll miss us if we go now?" Marcus asked as he stepped back from the doorway and returned to Ivanova's side. 

She shook her head. "Not for a while, at least. Let's get out of here." 

They passed the triple line of Rangers entering the building, and would have stood aside for that friendly invasion to pass, but the three lines of brown and grey clad Humans and Minbari seemed to flow around them like water, reforming at their backs and continuing on their way. 

Ivanova looked around to get her bearings, then slipped through an unmarked door, gesturing for Marcus to follow. She had only the vaguest idea of where she was going, but propelled herself along as if she not only knew _exactly_ where she was headed, but had every right to be there. The few people they encountered stepped quickly out of her way, and so much did Ivanova seem to belong both where she was and where she was going, that it must have been assumed anyone with her belonged as well, and so no one questioned Marcus, either. 

She'd expected to find the outer room of Sheridan's 'guest quarters' both quiet and unoccupied. Quiet it was. Unoccupied, however, it was not, as the slim, dark-haired and black-clad figure of Alfred Bester sat at the table, black-gloved hands folded before him. He sat as if he had settled in to wait, and though his pose was casual, it was clear that he was going nowhere at all until he got what he had come for. 

"Ah, Commander Ivanova." 

Ivanova leaned back against the door and sighed. She nodded. "Bester." The name fell like a stone from her lips. 

Bester turned his eyes to Marcus. "And Mister Cole. How delightful. I hope my presence doesn't keep you from whatever it is you came here to do; I'd really hate to have interrupted your little tryst-" 

The Ranger all but snarled at him, and took a step forward with one hand suspiciously hidden within the folds of his cloak, before Ivanova caught hold of his arm and jerked him back. 

"Marcus," she said sharply under her breath, then, aloud, "What do you want, Bester?" 

"Now, really, Commander, there's no reason to be rude. I'm simply sitting here, minding my own business." 

Ivanova gave a short, harsh laugh. "Right." She hobbled towards the table until it was all that separated her from Bester. 

"Come into my parlor, said the spider to the fly," was Marcus' comment. 

"Now, that was uncalled for," Bester said with a long-suffering sigh. "I haven't come to harm any of you- quite the opposite, actually." He toyed with a small black metal box, then pushed a button on its surface and slid it across the table towards them. "This will allow us to speak privately for a few moments. As I said, I'm not here to cause trouble. I came to see Sheridan." 

"And you're still here, why, exactly?" Ivanova asked. 

Bester smiled. "Would you believe I wanted to congratulate you on your promotion?" 

"No." 

"Well." Bester paused, flexing the fingers of his good hand. "I should just let you wonder, I suppose..." 

Ivanova shrugged. "If you've got something to say, say it. Otherwise-" 

"I came," Bester said then, "to ask Sheridan if one of the telepaths he used against the fleet in his little war was my lover." 

"And did he tell you," Ivanova snapped, "that she wasn't?" 

"He told me..." The PsiCop sighed. "He told me enough. Ivanova, I don't trust you and yours any more than you trust me- you must understand _that_." 

"You live in a very sad world, Mister Bester," Marcus said. 

"Perhaps. But it's the only one I know. In point of fact, Commander, Mister Cole, what I'm doing here is waiting for the reporters to go away and take their cameras with them. I don't think anyone else really needs to know I was here, do you?" 

"No," Ivanova said. "They don't." 

"But," Marcus added, "you could have left while things were still quiet. If there's one thing I'm certain of about you, it's that you can probably sneak just about anywhere without being seen by anyone you don't _want_ to see you." 

"Let's just say I had a vested interest in seeing whether Sheridan complied with the President's demands or not." 

Ivanova smiled. "That's _President_ Sheridan to you. Or hadn't you heard?" 

"I think the entertainment value of this conversation has been exhausted," Bester said as he rose from his chair. "And as for your President Sheridan, you'll tell him I want the rest of my people returned with Carolyn. He won't use even one more, single, no family, or not." 

"You talk about the way we used the Shadow-altered telepaths in our 'little war'," Ivanova said, "but we didn't put those implants in their heads, did we? We tried to help them, for all the good it did us- and the truth is that you'd have used us the same way we ended up using them, probably with less compassion, if our places were reversed." 

"Never," Bester said flatly. "A telepath never relies on normals to save him, because they won't." 

"Maybe not," Marcus agreed, "but your attitude is part of the reason why that's true." 

"You don't have any right to judge me, the things I do, or my reasons for doing them," Bester said flatly. "I never expected any of us to be friends, but I had thought we might come to some understanding." 

"How could that ever be possible?" Ivanova asked. "You look at us, and all you ever see is the things you'd do, the way you'd betray people to get what you wanted, the way you'd go after revenge as if it were the only thing in the universe that mattered." She leaned forward over the table, and when she spoke at last, her voice was almost a whisper. "Do you really think," she asked, "that any of us could be so cruel as to intentionally take away from you the only thing you ever gave a damn about? I'm surprised a creature like you can love anyone at all, but we- _Damnit_, Bester, right now I understand you a hell of a lot better than I ever wanted to. Do you think we haven't lost enough over the years to know how much losing her would hurt you? Oh, we know, Mister Bester- we know better than you think. But the truth is that none of us could be that cruel even to _you_, no matter how much we might think you deserve it." 

Bester said nothing. 

"Do you think I can't see how afraid you are of losing her?" Ivanova asked. 

"I've already _lost_ her, Commander, and right now I would give everything I have to get her back." 

"I know," Ivanova said. "I know." 

"Do you?" Bester asked. "Carolyn and I- All we ever had was each other." 

"We know," Marcus said. "I almost hate to say this, really, all the more because it's true, but we're really not so different, you and I. I was lucky once, but the Shadows took everything I had, and the day that happened was the day I stopped believing in luck. I only have two things now, Mister Bester, only two things in all the universe that matter worth a damn- The Rangers, and her." He gestured to Ivanova. "And when you get right down to it, Susan and I- We have each other. No more, no less." 

"You have Carolyn, and the Corps," Ivanova said. "And the Corps doesn't care." 

Bester sighed. "I don't want your sympathy, Ivanova, or yours either, Cole." 

Marcus nodded. "Of course you don't. And that's part of the reason you've got it." 

"Don't think this conversation changes anything between us," Bester said. "As you've said, we live in different worlds." He rose smoothly to his feet. "You'll tell Sheridan that what I said still stands. And again- Nothing's changed, Ivanova. Don't make the mistake of assuming we're all friends now." 

"We'll pass that along," Ivanova said. He had nearly reached the door when she said, "Bester." 

He turned back. "Yes?" 

"A word to the wise. I hear Garibaldi's looking for you. If you have the slightest shred of self-preservation, you won't let him find you." 

Bester smiled, a shark's smile. "Really, Commander. I guard my back a little better than that. No matter how much he wants to, he can't hurt me. Have a nice day." 

"Bastard," Ivanova said as the door closed behind him. "I _hate_ him- and I still feel sorry for him." 

"So do I," Marcus said. "What you said, about Garibaldi-?" 

"What about him?" 

"Does that mean you believe his story? I thought you didn't trust him." 

"I still haven't made up my mind about that," Ivanova said, "but no matter how sympathetic I am to Bester, I'd be crazy to trust him more than Garibaldi. As for what Michael says happened, well- I sure as hell wouldn't put it past him, would you?" 

"No," Marcus said, "and I think that's the saddest thing of all." 


	5. Chapter 5

Disclaimer: Babylon 5 and its characters don't belong to me. JMS owns everything except my crazy plot twists, and Lorell. 

"Never to Be Alone in the Dark" (5/?)  
by Christine Anderson  
aka Anla'shok Ivanova 

The ceremony marking Ivanova's promotion to Captain was more public than she would have liked, with only a few less reporters and cameras than had been present for the earlier speeches. The sheer joy of that moment, though, a moment she'd worked long and hard to reach, all but obscured her annoyance at being the subject of such a spectacle. When Sheridan traded her Commander's bar for that of a Captain, pinned it to her crisp, new, deep blue EarthForce uniform, as he shook her hand, Ivanova felt tears spring to her eyes and was unable to hold them back. 

"Congratulations, Susan," Sheridan said, then tossed formality to the winds and hugged her tightly, an infectious grin crossing his face. 

The applause was almost deafening when Captain Susan Ivanova turned and saluted President Susanna Luchenko. 

Under cover of that not inconsiderable racket, Luchenko said, "We've organized a small celebration in honor of the liberation of Earth tonight, and I would be honored if you chose to attend." 

Ivanova shook her head. "Thank you, Madame President, but I'll have to decline. I have a prior obligation." 

"Oh?" Luchenko asked, as she again embraced her countrywoman and kissed first one cheek, then the other. 

"I'm standing- well, limping along, is more like it -at President Sheridan's wedding." 

Luchenko smiled. "In that case, I'm sure our little party will go on without you." 

"Yes, ma'am," Ivanova said. "If you'll excuse me?" 

"Of course," Luchenko said. 

Ivanova hobbled back towards Sheridan. She beamed at him, and hugged him as best she could without dropping her crutches. "I'll get you for this, John," she said quietly. 

Sheridan laughed. "Sorry, Susan. It was the only way I could be sure they'd do right by you." He paused, and turned as if to help her towards a nearby chair. "Hear you had a visitor." 

"He was _your_ visitor first," Ivanova pointed out. "I figured the one place the reporters wouldn't be was your, ah, guest accommodations-" 

"Ah, the gilded cage," Sheridan said, escorting her out into the hall. "And you were right- about that, at least." 

Ivanova nodded. "Did Marcus tell you-?" 

"What Bester said? Yeah. I- well, hell, Susan, some people never change." 

"No," she agreed, "they don't. Whatever his faults, though- and I'll be the first to tell you Bester has a lot of them- he really does love her. It's not his fault that threatening us is the only way he knows to show it." 

Sheridan nodded. "Maybe, but if it were Delenn, I don't doubt I could be just as ruthless, and _you_-" 

"What?" Ivanova asked, but he only laughed and shook his head, and she let it go. "Speaking of Delenn, where is she?" 

"She didn't say where she was going-" Sheridan began, but before he could finish, a door opened at the other end of the hall, and Delenn herself stepped through. 

"John? I have someone here who I think you'd like to see." 

"Dad?" Sheridan asked, as an elderly man followed Delenn through the door. 

Ivanova smiled, gave Delenn a sketchy wave, and hobbled off in search of Marcus. She didn't have to look very far; the Ranger was trailing her by only a few feet, and finally made his presence known. 

"Susan?" 

She jumped approximately a mile and whirled on her crutches. "I really hate it when you do that." 

"Sorry," he said, grinning. "But you're not too easy to catch. I just wanted to say congratulations. I'm quite proud of you, Captain Ivanova." 

Ivanova found herself blushing. "Thanks, Marcus." 

"It's true, you know." 

"Yes," Ivanova said, still blushing. "I know." 

"Good." 

David Sheridan stood arm-in-arm with his son and future daughter-in-law at the other end of the hall. Ivanova saw the three of them talking amongst themselves for a few moments before the elder Sheridan grinned at the pair and gently pushed them on ahead of him. 

"Don't worry, I'll catch up," David said over his shoulder as he walked back towards Ivanova and Marcus. 

"Hello," Marcus said when the retired diplomat reached them, his tone respectful but curious. 

"Hey, kids," David said with an easy grin. "My son and that charming lady who's going to marry him have decided to get out while the getting's good, and they asked me to tell you to do the same. The bus is leaving for Babylon 5, and a little bird tells me they're up to something you won't want to miss out on." 

Marcus raised an eyebrow. "You don't think-?" 

Ivanova shrugged. "If they want to keep it private, there's nowhere better than the White Star-" 

They heard Lennier before they saw him, and at the sound of his footsteps Ivanova cut herself off mid-sentence, fearing something else had gone wrong. Lennier's running footsteps rang out in the hall, and he stopped just short of crashing into the trio. "Excuse me, Captain, Ambassador Sheridan... Marcus?" 

"Yes, Lennier?" 

"There's a call for you- it's Mister Garibaldi." 

"Garibaldi?" Ivanova asked. "I thought he was here." 

Lennier shook his head. "He asked to borrow a shuttle while we were still in Mars orbit. There didn't seem to be any harm..." He paused. "I'm not sure, but I believe he said something about going in search of Lise Hampton Edgars." 

Marcus nodded. "Alright. We were just about on our way back to the ship anyway, I'll speak with him as soon as we get there." 

* * * 

"Marcus, good," Michael Garibaldi said from the small viewscreen in the White Star's bunk room. "Listen, I know you're kinda busy, so I'll keep this short." 

"Take your time," Marcus said, leaning back carefully against the nearest wall. "We're not going anywhere for a while, and there isn't much to do until our guests of honor arrive." 

Garibaldi nodded. "When you see him, tell Sheridan I'm sorry I'm going to miss this, but there's something I've gotta do. By the way, how's Susan?" 

"She's, ah-" Ivanova glared at him from where she sat on one of the bunks, her foot propped up before her. "Doing fairly well, actually. Susan?" 

Ivanova leaned towards the screen and waved slightly. "You know," she said, as if the thought had come out of nowhere and tapped her on the shoulder, "I think I could really use a vacation." 

Marcus laughed. "Couldn't we all. I believe," he added to Garibaldi, "that she's at least somewhat sorry she clobbered you." 

"I didn't hit him that hard," Ivanova protested. 

"Yes," Garibaldi said, "you did. But it's okay- don't worry about it. Marcus, I need a favor." 

"Alright," the Ranger said. "What can I do for you?" 

"Lennier told you why I'm on Mars again?" Marcus nodded. "I think I know where Lise is, but-" 

"I knew there had to be a 'but' in there someplace," Marcus said. "But what?" 

"Things got a little hot around here when old man Edgars bit it-" Garibaldi said; Marcus chuckled. "Anyway, Lise figured it'd be smart to disappear for a while. Only problem is, she went to the Mars mafia looking for help to get off world. She figured she had enough money to bribe them, only they're greedier than she figured on, and, well-" 

Marcus nodded. "They sound like charming people. I can't for the life of me imagine why you wouldn't want your lady friend hanging around them any longer than necessary-" 

"Marcus..." 

"Alright, alright," Marcus said. "Do you know where she's being held?" 

"I've got a pretty good idea, and I think I can probably even get in. But once I'm there, I'm gonna be pretty badly outnumbered. These guys are serious, and they don't exactly go lightly armed, either." 

Marcus nodded again. "I see. Tell me, how would you feel about receiving a bit of backup from some friends of mine?" 

Garibaldi smiled. "Marcus, you're a prince." 

"Say, about, oh, ten to fifteen of them? Maybe more, depends. They're the sort to be really enthusiastic about this kind of thing; I may have to start turning them away..." 

Garibaldi nodded. "I love ya, pal. Seriously-" 

"Can't tell you how pleased I am to hear that, but I think I'm spoken for." 

"He _thinks_?" Ivanova asked with a sigh. "He thinks. I can see," she added, "that I've got some work to do." 

"Perhaps I'd better edit that," Marcus said. 

"Quickly," Garibaldi agreed. "Seriously, I owe you. Big time." 

"I'll remember that," Marcus said. "My friends will link in shortly, just as soon as I can scare them up." 

Ivanova was already speaking into her link. "Lennier, the White Star in Mars orbit-?" 

"White Star 13, Captain," the Minbari said. 

Marcus nodded. "That'll do nicely. Lennier, do you happen to know if Lorell is still in command?" 

"Of course I am, Marcus," a rough but hearty male Minbari said over the link. "Lennier seems to be about ten steps ahead of you." 

"He usually is," Marcus said. "How're things on your end?" 

Lorell sighed. "Almost depressingly quiet. President Clark's people don't appear to be quite as...dedicated as yours were on the Line. Since that last batch of them came through and decided to use you for target practice, we haven't seen a thing." His tone grew suspicious. "Why?" 

"Looks like I called just in time. You sound bored, Lorell." 

"What are you up to, you rascal?" 

"Me?" Marcus asked innocently. "Not a thing." 

"As usual, I don't believe you," Lorell said. "Now then. What have you got for me? I know you didn't call just to chat." 

"An associate of mine, Mister Garibaldi, is on Mars at the moment, and he's run into a bit of trouble." 

Lorell sighed again, the long-suffering sigh of an old friend. "I know the sort of company you keep, Marcus. What kind of trouble are we talking about?" 

"The once and future flame in the hands of the Mars mafia sort of trouble," Marcus said. 

The Minbari laughed. "Oh, for Valen's sake, is _that_ all? I thought you were going to hand me something difficult." He paused. "I'd say ten, maybe fifteen of us ought to be more than enough, but over half my bridge crew has already volunteered." 

"Try to restrain yourself, Lorell. Garibaldi doesn't need an army, just a few friendly Anla'shok to do unfriendly things to these people." 

"I'll work something out," Lorell said. "Rotations, perhaps. Frankly though, I'm surprised you're not doing this yourself." 

"Prior obligations, old friend," Marcus said. "Besides, I got a bit roughed up in that last little altercation. I really don't want your people to see me fall flat on my face; I'd never be able to live it down." 

Lorell laughed. "No, you wouldn't." He grew serious for a moment. "I always told you that your stupid nobility was going to get you killed one of these days." 

"It very nearly did," Marcus said quietly. "But, stupid or not, it wasn't as if I had time to think about it, really..." 

"I thought stupid nobility was part of being a Ranger," Ivanova said. She held up her hands. "Sorry..." 

Lorell chuckled. "Let me guess. The object of Marcus's adoration." 

Ivanova laughed and nodded. "Susan Ivanova. It's a pleasure to meet you." 

"Oh, God," Marcus said. "Lorell-" 

"Thank you for asking me, Marcus," Lorell said. "If you'll excuse me, my friends and I are off to help out your Mister Garibaldi. Don't worry, we can catch up later- I hear the Entil'Zha is getting married, and if you two don't invite me to whatever dreadful surprise party you're planning-" 

"Absolutely," Marcus said. "Let me give you Garibaldi's link code-" 

"Before I tell any stories you'd rather I forgot?" Lorell asked with a chuckle. "Yes, of course you're right." 

"Luck, old friend," Marcus said. 

"Hah!" said Lorell. "Fine words from the man who doesn't believe in them." 

"Maybe," Marcus said, "my luck's changing. Haven't decided yet." He gave the other Ranger Garibaldi's link code and signed off. 

Delenn stepped into the bunk room, looking quite amused. "Was that _Lorell_ I heard just now?" 

"The one and only," Marcus said. "Mister Garibaldi linked in- it seems he's found Lise Hampton Edgars, but needed a bit of help getting to her." 

"And Lorell, of course, very enthusiastically volunteered," Delenn said with a nod. "I could almost pity whomever stands against him..." She glanced at Ivanova, and her eyes seemed to hold a deeper amusement. "Susan, if you have a moment, John would like to speak to you." 

"Of course," Ivanova said. "But- now?" 

"There are preparations that must be made for the ceremony," Delenn said, "and things may move very quickly once we return to Babylon 5. There may not be as much time then as we might like, and it is better to say what needs to be said now, rather than wait." 

Ivanova nodded. "I can see that. Marcus-?" 

"I'm not going anywhere in much of a hurry, Susan," he pointed out with a smile. "I'll still be here when you get back." 

"Try and stay out of trouble, alright?" she asked. 

"Please," Delenn said. "It would be considered very poor form for a wedding guest to pass out due to blood loss during the ceremony. Stay still and mind your stitches." 

Marcus sighed. "Damn Stephen. I'm going to have _him_ in stitches-" 

"Marcus," Ivanova and Delenn said at the same time. They looked at each other, laughed, and walked out of the room together. 

"I do not know that I have ever seen him in such good spirits," Delenn said. 

"I don't think I have, either," Ivanova agreed. "It's been a good day. A strange day, but a good one." 

Delenn smiled. "You may find it is about to get a great deal stranger, Susan." 

"What do you mean?" 

But Delenn only shook her head and smiled. They reached the White Star's conference room before Ivanova could think of any way to pry anything more out of her. Not that she really thought she'd have had much luck; Delenn would never say more than she meant to until she was good and ready in any case, and there was no getting around that. 

John Sheridan looked up and smiled when he saw them enter the room. "Delenn-" he began, but she shook her head and ducked out again, muttering something about needing to get ready. Sheridan looked at Ivanova and shrugged. 

"Marriage," he said. "I've been here before, and it still amazes me how strangely it can make people behave." He gestured to the chair across from him. "Sit down, Susan." She sat. "As crazy as things have been, we haven't really had much of a chance to talk since I got back, and there are a few things I'd like to go over with you. Namely, what happens now that we've done so much of what we set out to do- and what your role in our next steps is going to be." 

"My role?" Ivanova asked, surprised. "I'm going back to Babylon 5." 

"Yes," Sheridan agreed, "you are. But you're not going back the same." He leaned forward over the table. "You came out here Commander Ivanova, second-in-command of a force organized to overthrow your own government because there was no other way to see that justice was done. And you're going back _Captain_ Ivanova, the highest-ranked EarthForce officer aboard B5." 

Realization of what he meant, of what he _had_ to mean, hit her like a brick. "You can't be serious!" 

Sheridan laughed. "Why the hell not?" he asked with a grin. "In one day I've ended my military career, began a political one, freed Mars for good this time, gotten you a well-deserved promotion, and I'm getting married in less than two hours. Tell me why I can't be serious." 

"Because- Damnit, John, I don't want your job!" 

"Newsflash, Susan. It's not my job anymore. It's yours. Want to sit and talk about it awhile?" 

"Yeah," she said, still reeling from the blow that brick had dealt her. "I think I'd better." 

"Would you like some tea, Captain Ivanova?" he asked, holding out a cup. 

Ivanova laughed. "I could use a good stiff drink, but-" 

Sheridan chuckled. "Best I can do on a White Star; sorry. Susan..." 

"I know, I know. I'm taking this seriously- you wouldn't believe _how_ seriously." 

He nodded. "You're not only the best person for this job, you're the _only_ person for this job." 

"But-" 

Sheridan shook a finger at her. "Uh-uh. You _are_, and don't think that didn't occur to President Luchenko when she agreed to your promotion. Of course, there's some paperwork to be filled out-" 

"There's always paperwork," Ivanova said, taking a sip of her tea. 

"Exactly. And we'll do the formal transfer of command once we're back on the station." 

"John," Ivanova said. "Don't take this the wrong way, but if you stick me in the middle of one more ceremony today, I may have to kill you." 

"Now, be careful. You don't want to go around threatening the life of a President, do you?" Sheridan shook his head and laughed. "Now, with you moving up to take my place, someone else has got to move up to take yours." 

"Um..." Ivanova said. "Not Corwin." 

"No," Sheridan agreed. "In a couple years, maybe, but right now he hasn't got the experience or the right attitude-" 

"Neither do I." 

"Experience you've got. Attitude, well, you've got that, too, it's just a little different." He reached for the pot of tea and poured himself another cup. "What I was thinking was this. We need someone good, _and_ someone who won't make too many waves back here." 

"Which I certainly will." 

"Hush. You're the media's darling right now, Luchenko's beloved countrywoman and all that, and we'd be foolish not to use that." 

"Alright," Ivanova said. "Do you have somebody in particular in mind?" 

"Actually...yes." He flipped a file folder onto the table. It skidded across towards Ivanova, and she caught it at the edge of her side of the table. "Commander Elizabeth Lochley. She's a good, solid officer with an exemplary record. That's important because no matter what Clark tried to make everyone believe, it's still something of an honor to be assigned to Babylon 5." 

"A dubious honor." Ivanova opened the folder. "And?" 

He sighed. "Never could get much past you, could I, Susan? There's just one last thing. She wasn't on our side during the war. She wouldn't have felt right about that." 

"You know her?" 

"You could say that. Now, she didn't do anything wrong, didn't fire on civilian targets- mostly she kept her head down and her nose clean. She was too junior to do much else, and lucky enough to be serving as the first officer of an explorer ship when Clark took over. Which is probably just as well..." 

"Oh?" Ivanova asked. She knew there was something else here, maybe something big, and she was right. 

"Yeah. See, when I said there was just one more thing-" 

"You lied." 

"I lied. There are two more." 

Ivanova sighed. "In for a penny... Okay. Shoot." 

"I met Lochley straight out of the Academy, and, well... it didn't last real long- about three months, all told, but we were married." 

"Oh boy," Ivanova said. "_And_?" 

"And you're either going to love her...or you're going to hate each other on sight." 

"Oh, boy..." 

* * * 

Ivanova stepped into the corridor outside the conference room. She leaned against the nearest wall, shaking her head and muttering under her breath. 

"I know _that_ look," she heard Marcus say from somewhere over her shoulder. "What is it?" 

She shook her head. "Nothing, nothing... It's not happening, I'll talk him out of it somehow, I swear I will!" 

"Susan, why don't you just humor me, and tell me what in Valen's name-?" 

"Sheridan," she cut him off, looking annoyed, "has decided he wants _me_ to take over as commander of Babylon 5. He either already has Luchenko's nod of approval on this one, or has decided it's another one of those little things he's going to spring on her-" 

"Fait accompli," Marcus said. "Sometimes it's easier. Don't you think, though, that there's a reason he chose you? Sheridan wouldn't have wanted you for the job if he didn't think you were ready for it." 

"That's not the issue," Ivanova protested. 

"What is, then?" 

She laughed. "Do you have any idea how much paperwork I'm going to be stuck filling out now? I'm going to kill him..." 

"I wouldn't," Marcus cautioned. "Delenn would take a dim view of that. So," he added, "would Lennier. Between the two of them, you really don't want to make Delenn unhappy, Susan." 

Ivanova nodded. "I hate it when you're right... Oh, _damnit_!" 

"Now what?" Marcus asked, sounding quite amused. 

"Sheridan's going to Minbar, Delenn won't be far behind him, Londo's off to become the Centauri Emperor... And if your friend Lorell is half as good as he thinks he is, we won't have Garibaldi with us much longer, either, because he'll have something too good to walk away from back on Mars. Do you know who this is going to leave me to deal with?" 

Marcus stroked his chin. "Hmm..." 

Ivanova raised a finger. "G'Kar." She raised a second finger. "Vir." Another. "Lennier." And another. "Zack." 

"They have all changed over the years they've been with you, Susan," Marcus said. "They'll manage, too." 

"I know _that_," she said, "but I have this problem with change. I was just getting used to things the way they were." 

"The way they were?" Marcus asked, trying hard not to laugh. "Let me see now- the Shadow War, friends dying all around us, not being able to trust half of the ones who were still alive, putting ourselves between the Shadows and the Vorlons at Corianas, and then, when _that_ was over, we got right into the civil one... All of that nonsense, you're going to _miss_?" 

Ivanova laughed. "That wasn't quite what I meant." 

* * * 

"Have you now seen enough?" Lorien asked. 

"I have seen," Sinclair said softly, "a beginning. The first of many, for them, for the others... It is enough." 

"This galaxy is theirs now," the First One said. "Theirs to rebuild, theirs to destroy... In either event, they are on their own." He paused. "You worry for them, of course." 

"As do you," Sinclair pointed out. "Not as much as I used to, though. They will stumble, they will falter, but then they will rise up again and go on. I know that. It is enough." 

And, so saying, he followed Lorien, the last of the First Ones, beyond the Rim at last. 


	6. Chapter 6

Disclaimer: Babylon 5 and its characters don't belong to me. Again, JMS owns the usual suspects, Lorell and his crazy pals are mine. 

"Never to Be Alone in the Dark" (6/?)  
by Christine Anderson  
aka Anla'shok Ivanova 

Rumors of the private ceremony which had bound Sheridan and Delenn in marriage leaked out, despite everyone's best efforts to keep things quiet. The newlyweds, and Ivanova, who had known it would happen, had taken it in stride. 

Ivanova and Marcus decided to take advantage of the fact that the news was spreading, and arranged to head back to Babylon 5 before any of the others. Ivanova had been debating pulling her new rank to aid them in this, but a carefully worded message had arrived from the captain of the _Agamemnon_, whom Ivanova had struck up a conversation with after Sheridan's wedding, offering the use of what turned out to be a small two-person patrol craft. 

"I'm just sorry we can't join you for the party," the captain said as Ivanova chucked her bag through the patrol craft's hatch. "I'd love to see the expression on the Captain's face when-" He shook his head. "I always seem to think of him as the Captain." 

Marcus and Ivanova both grinned at him. "So do we," said the Ranger. "We'll see if we can't send you a reaction vid, how's that?" 

The Captain laughed. "Just don't get caught- he might have a few choice words to say." 

"Long as we don't sell it to ISN, we'll probably survive the experience," Ivanova said. She turned to Marcus. "If we're going, and we want to have time to get set up before they get there, we should go now." 

"Yes, Captain." Marcus gave her a jaunty salute, and stepped through the hatch. 

Ivanova shook her head, then held out her hand to the _Agamemnon_'s captain. "Thanks again. I'm pretty sure this is going to get you into some kind of trouble, and if there's any way I can ever repay the favor-" 

"You're welcome, Captain." He saluted her, then smiled. "I'll remember you said that- who knows when having the commander of B5 owe you a favor might come in handy?" 

"Can't keep a secret around here, can you?" Ivanova muttered. She returned the captain's salute before following Marcus into the craft. 

"I assumed," the Ranger said from the copilot's chair, "that you intend to fly yourself." 

"You're damned right," Ivanova said with a grin. "Always wanted to try my hand at one of these." 

"Bloody..." 

Ivanova laughed as she ran her hands over the small ship's controls. "How about giving Lorell's ship a call? We can manage this without Garibaldi-" 

" 'Course we can," Marcus said. "We're not so bad at plotting things ourselves, you and I." 

She smiled. "-But it wouldn't hurt to have him on hand, either." 

"Right," Marcus said, getting to work on the panel before him. He sent a message to White Star 13, and had received a reply from Lorell by the time Ivanova had got clearance to depart from the _Agamemnon_ and began the patrol ship's flight out of the docking bay. 

"He says," Marcus reported, "that they'll race us back." 

"That didn't take long," Ivanova said, giving the craft's jump engines a little tap. The lightest touch on the controls sent the ship into hyperspace, and she smiled. "I think the station needs one of these..." 

Marcus rolled his eyes, but otherwise ignored that. "Lorell says that it was, and I quote, the most fun they'd had since the Shadow War." 

"Your friends have a strange definition of 'fun'," Ivanova replied. 

"As if you don't?" 

"True..." She paused. "Marcus? I've been meaning to ask you about this, and I guess now's as good a time as any." 

"Yes?" he asked, entirely serious now. 

"Back on the White Star, I had this dream. I saw a crystal city, and there were... images..." 

"I know," Marcus said. "I was there. The city was Tuzanor, where I did most of my Ranger training. And the things we saw, that Jeff showed to us..." 

"I get the feeling he's not supposed to be doing this stuff," Ivanova said. "Of course, he always did do whatever he felt was right, and to hell with anybody who thought they knew better." 

Marcus smiled, but the smile faded quickly away. "He showed us what could have been." 

"What almost was," Ivanova said. "I remember..." 

But suddenly she didn't. She didn't remember standing at the door between life and death, or the words she and Jeffrey Sinclair had spoken. She remembered only the choices, the decisions she had made which seemed at last to be the right ones, recalled Sinclair's words to them in the White Star's chapel, and later in the dream, but that was all. Never in all the days of her life would she remember the moments of her own death, for it had not happened, and never would she remember the ways in which Jeffrey Sinclair had helped her in those last moments. 

Ivanova shook her head. "I remember... some very good advice an old friend gave me." 

"And getting one or two swift kicks somewhere uncomfortable when you weren't quite wise enough to heed said advice?" Marcus asked. 

"That, too." Ivanova sighed. "I'm really going to miss him." 

"We'll see him again," the Ranger replied. "He said so, after all. And while Entil'Zha has never been known for giving anyone a straight answer, he _was_ a Ranger, and we-" 

"Never bluff, I know." Ivanova rolled her eyes. "You have strange definitions of 'truth' sometimes, though." 

"We keep the secrets we have to, Susan. Just as we all did. We _will_ see him again, but not for a long time. In the meantime... We still have things we need to do." 

"I think," Ivanova said quietly, "that I know what one of those things is. Will you go to Tuzanor with me?" 

"Now?" Marcus asked, eyebrows arched in surprise. 

"Not now, but soon. I have the beginnings of an idea-" 

"God help us all..." 

Ivanova raised one hand from the ship's controls to swat at him, turning away so he wouldn't see her smile. "Anyway, I just need to take care of a few things at the station, and then we can go. Assuming, of course, that you're planning on coming with me." 

"Of _course_ I'm coming with you, Susan, don't be silly." 

She nodded. "Good. There's just one more thing." 

"And what's that?" 

"I need to know if you plan on staying aboard B5 as station Ranger, or if I need to find someone else." 

"You," Marcus said, "will never need to find anyone else. Wherever you are, Susan, that's where I'll be. Babylon 5, Earth, Minbar- Mars or Z'ha'dum or light-years beyond the Rim, it doesn't matter. I'll be there." 

Ivanova smiled, and gave her readouts a quick check before turning in her chair and leaning over to kiss him. 

"Good," she said as she drew away. "That's settled, then." 

Marcus blushed faintly. "I guess so. But- Are you certain the station can fend for itself while we're away? I'd really hate to come back and find the place in pieces. I've gotten rather used to it as is, you know." 

"I think they'll manage without us," Ivanova said. "But I guess we'll find out, won't we?" 

Marcus buried his head in his hands. "In Valen's name..." He raised his head and glanced over at her. "You're _not_ planning on leaving Corwin in charge, are you?" She didn't answer. "Susan? _Are_ you?" 

Ivanova shook her head. "Of course not. Trust me, Marcus. I know what I'm doing." 

"I hope so-" he said, or started to, anyway, but just then one of her boots inched its way towards his foot, and Marcus paused quickly to reconsider. "I mean, of course you do, darling. I have absolute faith in you." 

Ivanova smiled. "Much better." 

The ship's proximity alarm began to sound softly, and she turned back to the controls. "Well, be it ever so humble, there's no place like home." 

"Almost there?" Marcus asked. 

"Nearly to the jump gate now." 

Ivanova moved the ship through the jump gate and back to normal space. They had been there less than thirty seconds when the comm began to chime, and Ivanova nodded to herself. 

"Corwin may know what he's doing after all," she said. 

"Maybe," Marcus replied. "Are you going to get that?" 

Ivanova flipped a switch on her board, and the voice of Babylon 5's Lieutenant David Corwin came through the speakers. "Unidentified EarthForce craft, this is Babylon control." 

"This is EarthForce patrol craft-" She paused to glance at the ship's ID numbers "-984-X requesting docking clearance." It was only after she'd spoken that Ivanova found the controls for the video feed, and, shrugging, she turned them on. 

"Of course-" Corwin's voice cut off suddenly as her image appeared on his screen. "Commander- no, make that _Captain_ Ivanova. Congratulations, ma'am." 

"Thanks," Ivanova said. "I assume we can move to the head of the line?" 

"We-?" Corwin asked. Marcus leaned into the video pickup's range and waved. "Yes, of course, Comm- Captain, sorry." 

"Thanks, Lieutenant," Ivanova said. She was already in the process of maneuvering the patrol craft to dock with the station. "Meet me when we dock, and tell the others to get set." 

"Yes, ma'am," Corwin said. "How long-?" 

"Don't know," she told him. "But the first White Star you see in the next few hours will probably have Garibaldi and some friends aboard, so don't panic." 

"Right, thanks," Corwin said. "I'm on my way now." 

"Alright," Ivanova said. "And, Corwin? Better bring the rice with you." 

"I'm sorry, Captain?" 

She sighed, and Marcus stifled a laugh. "Rice, Corwin. _Rice_." 

"I think," Marcus said after she had cut the connection, "that this could be almost as much fun as that little bash we threw after we won the Shadow War." 

Ivanova shuddered. "I sure as hell hope not. Did you see the _mess_ we ended up having to clean up?" 

Marcus grinned. "That's the beauty of your new job title, _Captain_ Ivanova. You don't have to so much as organize the clean-up team anymore. All _you_ have to do is tell your second to deal with it." He paused. "Speaking of which...?" 

"Later," she said, grabbing her bag. "Come on." 

They made their way slowly out of the craft, and as Ivanova swung herself down to the deck, she spotted Corwin. The lieutenant was eyeing the patrol craft admiringly, and as she watched, he reached out to run a hand over the ship's hull. 

"Nice," he said to himself. "Very nice." Corwin saluted Ivanova. "Captain." 

She nodded. "Lieutenant. Like the station's new toy?" 

Corwin gaped at her. "You mean-?" He cut himself off as he noticed at last the 'EAS Agamemnon' lettered below the serial number. 

"Sorry to disappoint you," Ivanova said. "I kind of like it, myself," she added, reaching back to give Marcus a hand. "Coming, Marcus?" 

"Eventually," he said. 

Corwin did his best to hide his surprise at the sight of the two of them, but his best wasn't very good, and it was clear that he hadn't expected to see them in such sorry shape. "Ah, Captain...?" 

She waved him off. "Don't ask. It's been a really long day." 

"I guess so," Corwin said. "We've been hearing some strange rumors off of ISN." 

"The really odd ones are true," Marcus said. "So... no rice?" 

"It's not the kind of thing the Zocalo merchants usually stock," Corwin said as the three of them began to walk, slowly, away from the ship and into the station proper. "But, Chief Allen is getting in touch with some of Mister Garibaldi's contacts..." 

Ivanova nodded. "Garibaldi's friends can find just about anything," she said. 

"Particularly if it's edible," Marcus agreed. "Alright, so that's taken care of, what next?" 

"Depends," Ivanova said. "Lieutenant, are the vultures circling yet?" 

He laughed. "Just about, ma'am. ISN and most of the other major networks have sent at least one crew. They're congregating in the Zocalo, getting in everybody's way." 

"What, you don't want to go out and say hello?" Marcus asked. 

She swung one of her crutches at him, and he sidestepped it with practiced ease. "That'd be a 'no', just to clarify," she said. Ivanova turned to Corwin. "So," she said, "what've I missed around here?" 

Corwin laughed a bit. "Well, not much, really. Things have been pretty quiet, except for the usual. We almost had a riot when half the station tried to get at the public viewers to find out the latest, but Security took care of that. They had some help, too. Oh, right," he said suddenly, as if he'd just thought of something. "That was the other thing. There are quite a few Rangers on station." 

Marcus was nodding as Corwin spoke. "Of course. I'd wondered where the rest of them had gotten off to. Don't suppose Delenn and the others wanted to scare the living daylights out of your government by having the _whole_ Ranger fleet show up on their doorstep... Probably drew straws to see who was going to Earth and who was coming here." 

"Some of them have been asking about you, sir," Corwin said. Marcus's expression was first confused, then startled; Ivanova realized that it must have taken Marcus several moments to grasp the fact that the lieutenant's 'sir' was directed at him. 

"Where are they now?" Marcus asked, once he'd gotten over the shock. 

"War room," said Corwin. "They've sort of taken over. I tried to stop them, but-" 

"Bad idea," Ivanova cut him off. "Never get in a Ranger's way, Corwin." She slung her bag over her shoulder and glanced at Marcus. "Coming?" 

"Where?" he asked. 

"I thought we'd go say hello to your friends, and see what sort of surprises they've cooked up for John and Delenn." She smiled, nodded at Corwin, and the two of them walked away. 

* * * 

David Corwin looked after them for a long moment, shaking his head. Something was different about the Commander- no, he corrected himself again, the Captain- something he couldn't put a name to. Whatever it was, though, it was no minor thing. 

He shook his head as he watched Ivanova and Marcus; the dark-haired man said something to the Captain, and chestnut locks danced as she threw back her head with laughter. 

Corwin remembered, quite suddenly, the roses he had once given her, and understood at once, in that moment, that it was hopeless. That it probably always had been. 

Strangely, the thought didn't upset him, didn't make him angry or even the least bit jealous. He felt relieved, almost. Corwin had been younger, and had seen less, when he had brought her those flowers, and he hadn't understood... 

The lieutenant laughed quietly. Well, for one thing, he hadn't understood what he was up against. Even when compared to all the other Rangers Corwin had seen coming through Babylon 5, Marcus Cole was different, unique. He stood above the rest of them, almost as if he were of some other place, of some other time. Hadn't he known, so easily, how to manage the man who'd come aboard several years ago, the one who'd claimed he was King Arthur? 

Corwin shook his head. No, he certainly couldn't have stood a chance against someone like that. 

And for the sake of his sanity, it was probably just as well. 

* * * 

In the hours that followed, most of the old crowd made their way back to Babylon 5. Marcus's friend Lorell had arrived as well, with Lyta Alexander and Dr. Franklin in tow, but without Garibaldi. When questioned about this, Lorell explained that Garibaldi and Lise Hampton Edgars had wanted a little time alone after she had been rescued. The others had nodded sagely at this. 

Ivanova and Lorell took to one another immediately, and kept each other company when Franklin at last caught up with Marcus, who found himself, despite his protests, being dragged off for a thorough examination, and probably a bit of a lecture along with it. While he was gone, Lorell told Ivanova stories about their time together as Ranger trainees, stories that were probably more fiction than fact; far-fetched at their best, but amusing. The good-natured Minbari seemed to have an endless supply of them, which he was more than willing to share as they worked at setting things up for Sheridan and Delenn's return. 

Large groups of Lorell's Rangers went out into the Zocalo, making a great deal of noise and having, by the expressions they wore upon their return, quite a lot of fun distracting the ISN people. The leader of most of these expeditions was a woman named Cordelia Brighton, Lorell's first officer. In between decoy missions, she added her own bits and pieces to Lorell's running commentary. Cordelia, it turned out, had come up through the Ranger ranks at about the same time as Marcus and the others. Ivanova found she wasn't very pleased by this revelation, and was not particularly amused by the raven-haired woman's anecdotes. Until, that is, Cordelia had let slip, with a sad smile and a shake of her head, which of the Cole brothers she had developed an interest in. 

The two of them kneeled on the floor, laying out decorations which the others would occasionally carry away and hang or drape about the room, and Cordelia, seeming to wilt under Ivanova's harsh gaze, kept her eyes on her work for several long moments before she gathered herself enough to speak. 

"I loved William. Never Marcus," Cordelia said quietly. She unwound a roll of streamers as she spoke, her hands shaking. "And William was fond of me, though we never had a chance to see where that might have gone. I didn't even meet Marcus until after Will's death, and, well- Oh, go _away_, Lorell, this is girl talk-" Lorell laughed and wandered off with another roll of streamers, and Cordelia let him get out of earshot before she said anything else. "The other female Rangers took notice of him right away, of course. It was hard not to notice someone like Marcus. He was so _angry_ at first, and then he wasn't much of anything at all, just closed down, closed off, cold. 

"Of course the others all thought they could bring him out of it if he'd just let them close enough, but he never did. Eventually they realized that he was looking for something, and that it wasn't one of us. I often thought that if Marcus ever fell for anyone- really, seriously fell for anyone- she'd have to be just as different, shining just as bright, burning just as dark, and as alone in a crowd of her peers as Marcus ever was with us. I wondered sometimes, what that woman would be like. And then I walked off that White Star today with Lorell, and I saw the way Marcus looked at you when he introduced you to us, and I knew. He loves you, Captain Ivanova, and I'm really, really glad that he does." 

"I know," Ivanova said. Then, "Me, too." 

Cordelia grinned. "Anyway," she said, "I thought you might like to know that you don't have any reason to be jealous of any of us. And you won't, ever. Rangers are strange, but those of us who survived the Shadows are family..." 

She trailed off, her expression a bit questioning, but Ivanova was nodding. "I know just what you mean," she said. "I'd go to hell and back again for anyone I fought the Shadows with. John, Delenn, Stephen, Michael, Sinclair...Marcus. Others too, but mostly them. The things we went through together..." Ivanova shook her head, unable to explain it. 

"Yeah," said Cordelia. "And you- You all understand where each of you fits in, don't you?" 

"Yes," Ivanova said. "We do." 

"You know who's fallen in love with who, who's never going to look at any of you that way, and who's free to be set up on blind dates with old school friends, or, you know, whatever," Cordelia went on. "I'm guessing that last is usually Dr. Franklin." 

"It used to be," Ivanova told her, "but these days I'm not so sure." 

"Well," Cordelia said, "I'd say your days of trying to set up your Mister Garibaldi are pretty much over." 

"I think the last of us to try that was Sinclair," Ivanova said. "Catherine Sakai had a cousin..." She trailed off. 

"You knew them pretty well, then?" 

Ivanova thought about that for a moment. Remembering Jeff, remembering Catherine, and just how much she really owed them. _Thank you,_ she thought, even though she knew there was probably no way they could have heard her. "Maybe not any better than you did, just...differently. But yeah, Jeff and I, at least, were pretty close. Getting this place-" She gestured with her braced arm "-up and running, trying to work all the bugs out- not to mention wondering if we'd all be blown up tomorrow, or if the place was going to vanish... Well, either you get it together or you don't, you know? Some of the others were less than enthusiastic about being here, but we had a job to do, and both of us believed in this place." 

"It _was_ different," Cordelia said. "He was your friend. To us, he was the Entil'Zha. We respected him, loved him even, but I don't know how many of us really knew him. He... He always seemed to know things we didn't, things he couldn't share. I think a lot of us wanted to help, would have if he asked-" 

"I know," said Ivanova. "So did he. That's why he _didn't_ ask." 

"Figures," Cordelia said with a smile. "I wonder sometimes, what ever happened to him. I don't know if you ever heard- Entil'Zha, Marcus, and Catherine were on a mission, and somehow they lost Catherine. He'd never talk about it, but he wasn't the same after. Not that you'd expect him to be, of course, but..." She shrugged. "I've wondered ever since. It's so mysterious- He was never reported dead, hasn't been seen alive again, just vanished one day. He packed, you know- like he knew he was leaving." 

Ivanova shrugged, as if she hadn't a clue either, and found the whole thing just as mysterious. "I wish I knew," she said. "I miss him." 

The conversation struck her as being on pretty dangerous ground, and she sought about quickly for a way to change the subject. Ivanova knew from her experience with Marcus that Rangers were quite sharp, able to put a small number of facts together into an amazingly detailed picture of events, and the last thing she wanted was to give Cordelia the one clue she needed to piece together the truth. 

"Listen, Cordelia," Ivanova said quietly, a little embarrassed. "Thanks. For what you said before, about Marcus. I didn't really mean-" 

"I think you did," Cordelia replied, "but I understand. Marcus is special, and..." The other woman shook her head. "Well, let's just say I've been there. I challenged another woman once, a Ranger trainee who'd been making eyes at Will. Only did it after she asked him for a bit of private tutoring, though. She could've used it, I guess- wasn't really that good- but Will wouldn't have been the best person to try and help her." 

"Oh?" Ivanova asked. 

"Yes. _Oh._ Turval, our teacher, was _not_ exactly pleased with me," Cordelia said. 

"I'll say," Marcus's voice called from the doorway. He walked slowly over to join them, but Ivanova noticed he seemed to be moving better than he had been before. "As I recall, he got between the two of you, took you both on single-handedly- bested you in about five minutes, I think-" 

"Six," Cordelia corrected. "I lasted six." 

"Right," Marcus said, as if he'd heard this protest before and didn't quite believe it. "Anyway, she and that other one were on the ground, bruised, bloody, dirty, and there's Sech Turval, not a scratch, hadn't even broken a sweat..." 

"I have never," said Cordelia, "been so humiliated." 

"That was the idea," Marcus said. "Of course, he didn't stop there. He picked them up, one with each hand, and dragged them both to Durhan, the old pike master. I don't know what went on afterward, but they had the worst of the chores for months, had to do them together, and I never saw either raise her pike against another Ranger in anger again." 

"Durhan made his point," Cordelia said, "but I'd made mine, too, and she didn't spend much time staring at William after that, did she?" 

"No," Marcus said with a laugh. "She certainly didn't." He smiled down at Susan. "Hello there." 

"Hello yourself," she said. "You're in a good mood." 

"Of course I am. Not only have I been blessed with a dose of Stephen's best painkillers, but I have just seen a vision more beautiful than any other-" 

Laughing, Ivanova chucked a roll of streamers at him. "Marcus, please- not in front of the Rangers!" 

He grinned again. Lorell chased down the streamers, which were merrily unrolling themselves along the deck. "Anyway, didn't mean to take so long, but you know Stephen. Had to make sure I wasn't going to keel over, and lecture me about straining myself while he was at it. Of course, once he finally gave _that_ a rest, he did agree with you about one thing." 

"And what's that?" she asked. 

"That whatever is wrong with my mind, it happened long before today." 

Ivanova wasn't the only one who laughed this time; Cordelia and Lorell joined her. 

"You needed a doctor to tell you that?" Lorell asked. 

"You needed Stephen to tell you I'm right?" Ivanova asked. "I'm _always_ right." 

"Except when you're left, of course." Marcus sidestepped the swing of Ivanova's crutches with practiced ease. "By the way, Stephen says you're next. I'll walk you, if you'd like." 

"I would," Ivanova said. She reached for her crutches, but Marcus held out his hand. She looked at it for a moment. "Are Stephen's painkillers really that good?" 

"They are." Marcus smiled again. "Besides, I'm not the one with the broken ankle, am I?" 

"Point," she said, and took his hand. "Shouldn't have been sitting like that, anyway. Thanks, Marcus." 

As Marcus helped Ivanova to her feet, Cordelia lifted the crutches from where they had been set aside on the floor, and held them where the other woman could get at them. Ivanova turned to her as she settled herself on the crutches once again. "You, too- Thanks. It was really nice meeting you." 

"Likewise, Captain. I'm glad we could talk-" 

"And that you straightened me out before one of us got hurt?" Ivanova asked with a wry smile. 

Cordelia smiled. "Yeah. That, too. See you guys at the party?" 

"Wouldn't miss it," Ivanova said. "If there's anything else you need, and Corwin gives you any trouble about it, I'll take care of it." 

"Yes, and as he's a bit thick, you may have to use force," Marcus said. "Careful you don't sprain your other wrist." 

Ivanova rolled her eyes. "We'll be back," she said, waving her braced arm at Lorell, Cordelia, and the others. 

She and Marcus stepped out into the corridor. He had not let go of her hand, and gave it a quick squeeze when she looked at him. 

"Susan?" He drew her aside, out of the traffic pattern. "You aren't- I hadn't thought... You'll be in command of this place in a few days, and if you'd rather they didn't see-" 

Marcus made as if to let go of her hand, but Ivanova wound her fingers tightly about his. "What?" she asked softly. "That I'm human? Hell with it, Marcus. I've lived behind too many walls for too long." 

He smiled, and she knew then that she had said the right thing, that anything else would probably have hurt him deeply. "If you're sure you don't mind being seen with me..." 

"Why would I?" Ivanova asked matter-of-factly. 

"You used to wonder where I fit in here." 

"Yeah, I did. But I _know_ where you fit in now- where you belong." 

"And where's that?" 

"Here. Right here." She smiled. "And I dare them- I really, honestly dare them- to say _anything_ about it." 

Marcus laughed. "I can see that staying by your side is never going to be boring, Susan. But of course, I already knew that." He bowed over her hand and kissed it, and Ivanova realized she was blushing only as she felt the heat creeping up her face. 

"Right," she said. "Come on. If I put this off much longer, Stephen's going to decide he has to come looking for me, and I really don't want to hear about it." 

"Can't say as I blame you,' Marcus said. "He does good work, but he _is_ a bit of a pest sometimes." 

"No kidding," Ivanova said. "Let's go, huh?" 

"As my lady wishes." 

She rolled her eyes again, but he had probably figured out by now that she wasn't always nearly as annoyed as she pretended to be. If it had really bothered her, she'd have made that clear in no uncertain terms. 

"So," Marcus said as they stepped into the lift. "Enjoy your chat with Cordelia?" 

"After I figured out the interpersonal relationships, yes." 

"I can't believe it- You were jealous, Susan! Jealous. Of Cordelia?" 

"I don't share well," she said. Marcus laughed. "Besides, you were jealous of _John_, weren't you?" 

"Point," he conceded. "It just seems a bit odd, that's all. But you seemed to get on alright, after all." 

"She told me a few very interesting stories," Ivanova said. "Some of which sounded almost plausible. Lorell's, on the other hand-" 

"Oh, God," said Marcus. "Lorell. I left you alone with _Lorell._ A better friend you couldn't find, nor a better one to have standing at your back. But he's a bit attached to the sound of his own voice, and he does like to spin a tale." 

"He was- entertaining," Ivanova said, "even if I know at least two thirds of what he told me has to be absolute crap. I got the impression he was trying to decide if he approved of me or not." 

"He does," Marcus said. "I figured, with your sense of humor, the two of you would get along. But if he's been telling you that charming drivel of his, he must like you. We are the few singularly blessed." 

Ivanova laughed. "It's strange, though," she said, quietly, seriously. "I never thought you had many close friends even among the Rangers." 

"I don't, really," he said. "Lorell, and in a way Cordelia. We aren't close, but William's memory connects us. Used to be more, once upon a time, but-" Marcus shrugged. "Fortunes of war. You know how it is." Marcus smiled suddenly. "There's one other I'd love to introduce you to, when we go to Tuzanor; Turval. He was Sinclair's right hand, taught us approximately half of what we know. Old warhorse, really twisted sense of humor- I think you'd like him. Though if you get on as well with him as you did with Lorell..." Marcus shook his head. "Wouldn't surprise me if you did. You alone frighten people, you know-" 

"I do?" she asked with feigned innocence. 

"But you and Turval, in the same city? Tuzanor may never be the same." 

"I think the damage may have already been done," Ivanova shot back. "How long were _you_ there, again?" 

"Touché!" He laughed. "I should know better than to think you'll let me have the last word." 

"Oh, you can have it, if you ask nicely." Balancing carefully on her crutches, she leaned forward and kissed him once, gentle and quick. 

"Mmm," Marcus said thoughtfully. "I'll keep that in mind." 


End file.
